Obliterate
by Screwme
Summary: I apologise to you all, but this is on stand by for the moment - will let you know what's going on later
1. Tip 1: Find a car and get your ass out

**So this may end up being a Crenny story, but I'll take requests/suggestions for the time being! I wasn't really sure in what parings to have, so I'll take your ideas!**

**Tip One: Get a car and get your ass out, before the soon to be 'luxuries' get taken.**

* * *

**Kenny's POV  
**  
It started with nightmares. I'd wake up, every night-3am to be exact. I would wake, sweating and shivering. I would yelp and cry out in pain, but I couldn't remember why. Every night I would dread, because of these brutal dreams I would have.

I never told anyone about them, because how could I? I would forget them in the morning. I had told Stan and Kyle about this problem, but they thought the same as me. We thought that because it had been happening for a few weeks, it was just a phase. I mean, my family had been getting really rough lately, with drugs and alcohol and the beatings had gotten worse. My parents would only abuse us and each other when they were out of their fucking mind, and that had been happening regularly.

I tried my hardest to remember these dreams, honest. But it was no fucking use. My memory would always go blank. It pissed me off. So I stuck to this all being a phase and all, and took some pills for it. Of course, they did no fucking use.

It wasn't until this one night, where I now know what these dreams were telling me. The message was that the world was pretty much done for. That's right, a fucking apocalypse.

Everyone who was stupid enough read the signs that something bad was going to happen. Not just to South Park, but for the world. We just didn't know what. There were talks about it being a nuclear war or a terrorist invasion or something, but we had got it all wrong.

So this is where it all started for me.

I was sitting on my bed, finishing off the third playboy magazine that night. I was gonna' get ready to jack it, but the sound of my sister charging through the door, whining and crying out, sorta put the mood out.

''Kenny, Kenny! Mom and Dad are going crazy!''

I awkwardly grabbed Karen as she came rushing through the room and hugged me. I reassured her, everything was fine. I assumed they had a bit too much to drink tonight and she got in the way again.

''No, their crazy! Dad spat blood at Mom and they started trying to bite each other, swear down!''

I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. It sounded a bit strange, but I didn't really think anything of it. My parents sometimes had their kinky nights, especially on their anniversary, so I guessed they just got super horny or something.  
''It's alright, Kare. They'll sort it out. Just stay in here with me for a while, okay? You'll be safe with me.''

She nodded and pushed herself into my chest. I suppose jacking off was definitely out of the question tonight. Shame. As much as I loved Karen, she was just so emotional. She still hadn't gotten use to the fact that our parents were abusive towards each other and us, too. Must have been a female thing.

Suddenly, my door slammed itself open once again, and in came the brother. He, surprisingly had a frantic expression on his face, which then made me think something was wrong. Kevin was never fully emotional. He got angry a lot and the only time I ever saw him happy was when he was high or drunk. But this was something new.

''Kenny.''  
He pushed the door closed and barricaded it, by placing my wooden chair under the door handle. I noticed he was holding a baseball bat in his hand and a 1911 handgun tucked into the back of his jeans.

''Kev, what the fuck?''

He turned around to face us, before striding towards us in one quick manner.  
''We need to get outta here.''

I rose an eyebrow questioningly, but he ignored my expression and moved towards the window, opening it.

''You should be able to carry her on your back.''

''What?''

''We don't have a lot of time, scoot.''

I carefully pushed Karen off of me and stood up.  
''What do you mean? Kevin, what's going on, man?''

''It's Stewart. Him and Carol have gone mad.''

I pulled a face.  
''So they had a couple of drinks? I've been very comfortable babying around in here and I don't wanna leave just because of som-''

''No, listen to me. Their.. insane.''

I continued to eye him, as he fixed the window wide open.  
''In what way.''

He looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to put it into words, replying with,  
''Rabid.''

''..Rabid.''  
I repeated. I awaited for him to continue, but before he could, the door began to bang and blow against its hinges. There were eruptions of violent moans and screams, coming from the other side of the wood. I frowned in confusion, glancing between the door and my siblings.

''Y'see? It's like in those movie, Ken. The ones we weren't allowed to watch when we were kids?''

''Kev, what's going on? Why are they doing that?''  
I felt Karen shiver, but I kept my attention on the door.

''Kenny. We have to go. Don't let her see what I saw.''

I seriously wanted to know what the fuck was going on, but part of me didn't want to see what was behind that door.

''I'll meet y' down there. Oh, and take this.''

I glanced at my brother, as I received the baseball bat he was holding. I stared at it for a moment, before the door bought back my attention. The wood was slowly breaking through, but not enough to see my parents' faces. I heard some sort of shuffling coming from the window, so I assumed Kevin was getting ready to jump.

I felt my arm tug by my little sister and she asked me if we were leaving. I could tell she was frightened. She had seen many bad things in her life, which was partly my fault. I wasn't a great influence, but then again, neither were any of our family. Me and Kev took care of Karen, but he wasn't with it half of the time.

About a year ago he just started getting clean. Well I say clean, what I mean is, is that his shakes calmed down and he wasn't doing as much crack. There was a time where he had gotten really bad. He had been in prison multiple of times. But the longest he had stayed in, was only 5 months. And you know what? I didn't even know what for. He never told me the reasons.

I was there for her more than he was, but I was still a pain in the ass. I smoked, got high, got drunk now and then. I wasn't what you call 'sensible', but I could multitask. I wasn't really that different from being myself and having some substance roaming in my body. But anyways, Kev and I were never really great at taking care of Karen, but we did what we could. Better than our fucking parents anyhow.

I took a step back and looked out the window. It wasn't until I heard random outbursts of screams, coming from the street, that I knew something was definitely wrong. I saw my brother sorting himself out down below near a bush. He gave me a wave, so I turned towards Karen and bent down to her level.

''Listen here, Kare. I'm gonna' put y' on my back, okay? Y' gotta' hold on real tight now, because I won't be able to hold you.''

''You don't have to treat me like some five year old, I know what to do. Jus' like when we were kids, yeah?''

No matter how old she got, she was always my little sister.

She nodded and leaped onto my back. I hung one leg out of the window and planned out how the hell I was gonna' get down. It was then, the hinges holding the door had broken off and the chair had shattered in two.

I immediately snapped my head towards the door and froze. Through the pieces of cracked wood I could just about manage to see them.

My Dad's bloodshot eyes were like dirty pools of milk. His hat had been ripped off, and his cheek looked like it had been stabbed. His mouth twitched, drooling with blood. I had never seen anything more morbid. And I had seen a lot of fucked up things in my lifetime. Believe me.

Mom was the same. Her top had been torn, showing a bare shoulder. Half of her jaw had been frayed, spilling out constant spits of blood. I had never seen them want anything more than getting through that door. Their arms were in a world of their own, shoving themselves through the frame. Finger nails stained with dirt and dried blood.

I had never studied anything so fucking much.

As soon as that door had broken through, I knew there was no time to wait around. I made sure Karen's head was tucked into the back of my neck, just so she wouldn't see the horrifying look of our parents.

Not that they didn't normally look fucking stupid anyways.

''Hold on tight, girl.''

I pulled myself onto the gutter and slowly, but swiftly slid down, using my hands and feet. I had done this sort of thing before back when I was playing Mysterion. I had mastered the ways of getting up and down buildings, just by using my arms and legs. I had learnt some free running as well when growing up (I wasn't great at it mind you), so getting away from the cops and gangs wasn't really a big deal.

I eventually got down successfully, despite having to carry the excess weight of my sister and Kevin's old bat.

I hadn't carried Karen like that since forever, I never realised how much she had grown until now.

''Took y' fuckin' time, Ken.''

I interrupted his statement and asked monotonously,  
''Where are we going.''

''I don't know.''

Karen jumped down and brushed herself off. We followed the eldest sibling as he walked along the side of the house. I looked back up at the window, but the only thing I was able to see was the dull bedroom light.

''What do we do now?''

''I don't know.''

''Fuckin' great you are.''

We reached the end of the house to see the look of destruction roaming in the street. Fire, gun shots, screams, car horns, dogs barking. Practically everything that could make a riot was happening. The three of us stared at the eradication that was taking place.

''Shit.''

''..Fuck.''  
We were both thinking the same thing. This was definitely something that was not in my league. We have had armed troops and protests in South Park before, but nothing like this.

''That's our friends. Our town.''  
I stupidly looked at him for answers, but obviously got nothing.

''I know.''

'Kevin. This is serious!''

''I know.''

''K-Kenny.''  
I felt Karen tug at my arm, but I shook it off.

''Do you think it's happening everywhere else?''

''I don't fuckin' know.''

''Well how did you know something was wrong with Mom and Dad?''

He turned towards me and sighed in annoyance.  
''Because I saw it happen earlier.''

''Uh, guys?''  
I ignored her again and took a step forward, towards the path. I tried to work out which was the best way to go.  
''With who?''

I heard him mutter something about it not mattering, so I then pushed another question onto him.  
''When did this start?''

''I don't fuckin' know, Kenny! I know just about as much as you do, so unless you have some fuckin' useful advice to give, I suggest you shut the fuck up and help me find a motherfuckin' plan!''

My eye twitched. I was such an annoying asshole when it came to wanting answers.

''Nngh, Kenny!''  
I heard Karen's voice cry out from behind me, following by a yelp, which made both of mine and Kevin's heads turn to see two figures reaching out and trying to grab at her. It looked a splitting image of what had happened upstairs with my parents.

''The fuck?!''  
I lifted up the baseball bat and told Karen to duck. As she did, I took a heavy swing for one of the figures. I aimed for the head, because with what these guys looked liked, I sorta knew what to do. It was weird, I always thought an apocalypse like this was just stuff in the movies, but looking at the long term evidence of the build up to something like this happening, it had was quite believable.

The hard wood smashed against the head, causing the brain to explode from behind. The cold blood spurted towards me, staining my pale skin and even my orange fucking parka. I did the same with the other 'walker' and rammed it's head into the near by wall. I whacked their heads several times, just to make sure I had got them good. God it felt good.

I turned towards Karen and made sure she was okay.

''If that happens again, shout walker. Just so we know, okay?''  
I kinda liked the word walker. It reminded me of some of the zombie flicks I used to watch with my friends.

For me, I always wanted something like this to happen. It meant that I could never go to school ever again. It meant I could kill the people I didn't like and get away with it. Mind you, there wasn't many people I didn't like, but being able to commit murder was just something that sparked my interest. It would release a lot of tension. The only problem I had, was looking after my sister. If I was on my own, everything would be easier. I would stick to being alone and hop from one place to the next. But having Karen meant responsibility. I hated that shit. Looking after myself was already bad enough.

''Keep that up and I won't need to use this.''  
I realised that he had my back by the position he was holding the gun. I suppose using as little bullets as possible was better. I panted and gave him a nod, before taking the lead in front.

''We need to get Karen somewhere safe.''

''We need a car, that's what we need.''  
I silently agreed and observed the way he smashed Dad's truck window with his elbow. He unlocked the doors and the three of us quickly jumped in. I insisted to drive, because lets face it, I was a much better driver than Kev was. We didn't exactly have the keys, but Hot-wiring a car was simple shit for the McCormicks.

I stepped on the gas and sped down the road, trying to avoid all possible obstacles.

We drove past many beggers. I was tempted to stop and help, but Kevin was too stubborn to save other people in this town. He didn't want them to slow us down anymore than we already were. I took that he was hinting that about Karen. She wasn't exactly helpful. Don't get me wrong, I loved my sister and would do anything in my will to protect her. But I suppose she could have been a bit of a drag. I wouldn't have ever told her that though.

I asked which way we were heading and he told me east. Of course I asked why, but he replied with something like 'We can head for the country, but going pass Denver means better weapons and supplies. If we get there in time, we may just get the stock.' It was as if he had planned it for a long time already. To be fair, I think everyone thinks about fantasies like this once in a while. But I agreed otherwise and headed out.

We were just about to drive past the 'Thank You For Staying At South Park, Have A Safe Journey' sign, but I didn't realise the on coming van that was speeding at stupid miles an hour to the left of us. The impact was incredible. I felt my body being ripped from my seat and thrown onto the hard concrete. I hit my head hard. I tried to keep myself conscious and I did an okay job for what had happened. I could just about hear a long, high-pitched screech calling my name, which I suggested was from Karen. I opened my eyes but failed to keep them there. My vision blurred and I soon felt my conscience being pulled away from my body.

Safe journey my ass.

Dying was no problem, it was just that if I came back as the undead, then that would have caused mayhem. I had to remember to tell Kev and Karen that later. To kill me if I come back as on of them. They would never believe me if I told them I was immortal, though. But I had to remember to tell them. That's if I would be able to find them after I wake back up later.

Perhaps when I do wake back up, I could hang around a while. See who was dead and who wasn't. Fuck, what would I do if I found out all my friends were dead?! Stan, Kyle, Cartman?

I hope to fucking God, they had sense.

* * *

**Okay, so Kenny is supposed to be about 17, Kevin 20 and Karen is about 12. I know shes only about 2 or 3 years younger than Kenny but idk, i made her younger eheh - and of course her siblings baby her, because she's so innocent **


	2. Tip 2: Always plan ahead

**hey, this took forever to update, because my computer deleted some of my files -rage- so naturally, i left it for a while and then re-wrote it**

**but anyways, sorry for the wait, felt kinda bad as it's only the second chapter,**

ALSO: this was too long to fit into one, so i've split it into two parts

**-THANKS FOR THOSE REVIEWS!**

**Tip 2: Always plan ahead. Wrong decisions can lead to consequences. **

* * *

**Stan's POV -Part One-**

Basically this whole thing started at my house. Kyle and I were having a sleep over at my house. The other guys were supposed to come as well, but Ken told us he couldn't make it for some reason and Fatass didn't exactly wanna come if Kenny wasn't, so it ended up being just me and Kyle.

We had just finished catching up on our notes from last week, which I insisted we did, as I actually wanted to get a decent grade for this annoying ass project we were doing.  
So it was around 6pm, when my Mom had a call from Kyle's Mom, saying that Kyle's Dad had gotten mugged by a small gang on his way back from the convenience store. Apparently they attacked him and tried to bite him. Kyle and I assumed that they were some sort of 'high on crack' punks or something, but apart from him being assaulted, everything was fine. Well. So we assumed. His Mom had said that she was treating it, so we thought everything was cool.

Anyway, so after we got told about that, I decided that it was time to order pizza. Before I could do though, my phone rang, notifying me that Wendy was trying to call me. I stared down at the screen, wondering whether or not I should answer.

Wendy and I had broken up several weeks before hand and we hadn't been speaking to each other. The guys gave me advice to stay away from her for a while, because they got sick and tired of me being 'depressed' every time we broke up. In all fairness we weren't what you call 'on and off', but we did have several breaks from each other. Of course, we both used those breaks as an excuse to sleep with other people, but that didn't really matter anymore. I suppose you could say I still missed her sometimes. Gay, I know.

'Who's that?'  
I took a glance at Kyle, who sat at the bottom end of the bed, his head bending back to look at me.  
'Who do you think?'

He let out a frustrated groan and face palmed.  
'Dude, that's the fifth time this evening! Why don't you just tell her to stop bugging you? It's pissing me off, you being all mopey and all.'

'But why would she call? We haven't spoken in two weeks! What if she wants to get back with me?'

'No no, you broke up for good, remember? There's plenty of other girls out there, Stan.'

I sighed, feeling the vibration in my palm come to a halt.  
'But.. It could have been important.'

'I'm not forcing you to not pick it up. I just don't like it when you put your whole life on hold just for that annoying son-of-a-whor- uh, girl.'

I smirked at his comment. It felt sort of nice to have that one person who looked out for you, even if it did get annoying.  
'She's not a whore dude.'

He held his hands up in defence, acting like he hadn't said anything.  
'Get your ass on the pizza line, I'm hungry.'

I proceeded to do so and got our usual Friday night special. In the mean time, we sat and played video games. We talked a lot about anything and everything. We never failed to keep up a conversation, Kyle and I. We would mostly talk about school, opinions on movies and games, and would normally discuss random theories that one of us would come up with. We were very similar, I think that was why we got along so well.

'So you're telling me that if you apply an electric current to a pickle, the salty water shit inside will cause the pickle to glow in the dark?'

'Straight down.'

I kept my attention on the television screen and thought about his suggestion. I wasn't great with my science, but I definitely knew that, that would not work at all.  
I didn't think so anyways.  
'That's bullshit.'

'No dude, I did it in my chemistry class.'

'Well then how come cucumbers don't glow then?'

'Because there's sodium in the pickle juice. The sodium gives off that yellow, glowy effect when it's excited or something. Look it up.'

I laughed it off and brought my focus back onto the game we were playing. He mentioned something about paying more attention in my classes, but I told him that playing football didn't say anything about getting a science degree. He scoffed at that.

It wasn't until about an hour later, that we both realised the pizza guy hadn't shown up with our precious food. I called down to my parents to see if Dad had 'accidentally' forgotten to tell us that the pizza had been delivered ages ago and it all had gone cold, so he had to eat it to prevent it from being fucking wasted. Yeah he had done that on several occasions. The bastard.

But after they told us that no-one had actually come to the door yet, Kyle suggested to call them again. I only lived about 10 freaking minutes away from the pizza place.

'Dude, just call them again.'

'No, it's a Friday. They're probably just really busy tonight.'

'Just do it, they must have forgotten us or something.'

'If they don't get here in the next ten minutes, then we'll call.'

'Stan, I'm fucking hungry!'

I groaned and tossed the home phone over to him.  
'Fine, you call them.'

I dropped the controller onto the side of the bed and lead back, stretching out my joints. I felt myself falling into a stare, looking nowhere in particular. I partly listened to the odd conversation Kyle was having, but only started to pay attention when he nudged my leg and pulled on the fabric, in which I then sat up and gave him an annoyed look. He flapped his hand, motioning me to come closer, but that only made me sink back down into the mattress.

'Oi, no. Come here and listen to this!'

Instead of getting back up, he scooted himself closer to me, so that both our ears were connecting with the phone.  
'Dude, what?' I asked with no particular tone in my voice.

'Sh, just listen.'

I rolled my eyes, but did as I was told. I was normally oblivious to a lot of things and never really got the catch until later on, but I listened along with Kyle to see what he was making a fuss about.

I didn't think anything of the phone call until I heard some sorta glass smash against the floor or something. I frowned in confusion, as Kyle and I locked eyes on each other. I wanted to ask him what was going on, but the other end of the line was beginning to sound more and more intense, so I inched my head closer to the ear piece.

I heard muffled screams sound from the other end. I couldn't quite catch what they were saying, because I think the majority of the voices were just, in fact, screaming. My first thought instinct, would have been that the place was being robbed, but something just didn't sound right. These outbursts were more brutal, but I couldn't think what it could have been.

The next thing I heard was a distant alarm, wailing in the background. It sounded like a fire alarm system had gone off, but it was then that I wasn't sure if the sound was just coming from the phone, or if I could actually hear it in the distance.

We stayed on the line for a good few minutes afterwards, listening to the cries and bawls that were being made. Once I had, had enough, I shoved the phone back into Kyle's hands and shifted myself off the bed.

'What the hell is that, Kyle?!'

I watched as he hung up the phone and scooted to the end of the bed, sitting with his legs dangling off. He shrugged and nervously itched the back of his head.  
'I don't know, I jus-'

I cut him off and began to worry the situation more, by asking all of the 'What, When, Where, Why and Who' questions.

'Are they in trouble? Who even are they?'  
I started to pace myself around the room, trying to calm myself down. I wasn't so much as scared, just nervously curious.

'I don't know bu-'

'Are they in trouble? What are they doing?! God, Kyle, why didn't we record it?! We could have used it as evidence or something!'

That made him get up and force a grip on my shoulders to stop me in my movements. He couldn't get a word in edgeways, and I noticed that. Whenever something like this happened, I would always ask all the questions under the sun, but wouldn't let people have a chance to answer them. I suppose you could say it was one of my many annoying habits.

'Calm down, will you?! I don't know what just happened, but you getting all worked up won't solve anything. One question at a time, okay?'

I nodded and took a short breath in.  
'Okay. What happened first? Like when they answered.'

'Well. I just dialled the number and this guy picked up. I don't know if you were listening or not, but I was in mid-sentence, inquiring about our order, when he told me to 'hold on for a second'. I don't really know what happened next. I just heard an outbreak in the background. This girl was screaming and I think the guy shouted something about calling the cops or an ambulance. I couldn't really hear, but then I passed the phone to you and here we are now.'

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing back my bangs and thought about what to do. None of it made any sense to me. Why would something like that happen?  
'So-' I closed my mouth, only to re-open it and continue,  
'So, you just called and.. that happened?'

He took a step back and dropped the phone onto my nightstand.  
'Mm.'

'Shouldn't we call the police or something?'

'That's what I was thinking.'  
He took no hesitation in pushing in the digits. He looked at me whilst waiting for them to answer. We both stared at each other, hoping that this wasn't as bad as it all seemed.

'Hello?! Yes my name is Ky- shit.'

'What? What is it?'

I watched carefully as he hung up and re-dialled.  
'Engaged.'

'Fuck.'

We waited again, only to receive the same message. We tried at least four times, before eventually deciding to giving up.

'What the fuck do we do now, Kyle? How can the emergency service be engaged?'

He shook his head and told me that we should tell my parents. I agreed, so we both made our way hurriedly, down the staircase.

Stuff like this had been sort of happening in past couple months or so. We had heard a lot about terrorist attacks in places like Europe, parts of Asia and even in the big states near us. Likewise, I didn't really pay attention. It wasn't happening in out town, so I thought nothing of it. Just thought we were going back into the big depression or something. But recently, a lot of people had been loosing their jobs, so riots started happening. There was even a riot in South Park, but my Mom forced my Dad to not get involved. It wasn't like _his _job was on the line. I knew the McCormick's were having a tough time, so I made sure Kenny was alright and didn't starve or anything.

Man you should have seen him though. I had never seen him fall into anything so low before. Kenny never got depressed, he just.. sort of changed. He was more spaced out and stopped paying attention to things. He said he had been having these dreams, but Kyle put it down to stress. He took that as the excuse and we went back to our normal lives.

Something bad was bound to happen soon. Kenny was like a fortune teller without meaning to be. His mood would change and that's how we knew something was gonna happen, whether it was good or bad. I took it as a sign, but didn't do anything about it.

We reached the living room, to see my Dad sprawled out on the sofa, flicking through the channels.  
'Mom, Dad?'

'Oh, hey Stan, Kyle. Gawh, there's never anything good on. Stupid cable.'

I looked around for my Mom's presence, but didn't seem to see her. I asked him where she was and he replied with,  
'She went round to Shelia's. Apparently she needed her help or something, I dunno.'

I was going to wait until she came back, but Kyle insisted I just tell him, otherwise we would be wasting time.  
We told him all we knew, and the more we went into it, the more my father surprisingly seemed interested and responsive. We told him that the emergency service line was on hold, so we didn't have a clue what to do.

'Shouldn't we go and check it out?'

'No, no. It's probably not as bad as you think. I'll take a drive down now and see what's going on. I might get some liquor on the way back actually.'

'You sure, Mr. Marsh?'

'Absolutely. Just look after the dog and make sure he doesn't break through that back door. He's been becoming a right spaz lately. Is that the right word you kids use? Spaaaaz.'

I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. I told him to call me if he needed us to come down or whatever, and he was soon out of the door and into his car. We didn't bother to head back upstairs, we just sat on the couch and waited patiently. I noticed that Kyle was fiddling about with his phone, which made me think,  
'How's your Dad?'

He looked up and gave a brief smile.  
'Ike said he doesn't feel so good. My Dad's not very good at defending himself out in the streets and doesn't really like the sight of blood. Probably a bit shocked over what happened. He'll be fine.'

I took his word for it. I couldn't help but notice the flickering of the TV. Only just slightly. I didn't have a slight clue what channel it was on, because all it read was, '_PROGRAMMING NOT AVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.'_

I felt a faint frown appear across my face and decided to check the other programmes to see if anything interesting was on. Preferably some sort of news channel.  
I flicked through one programme, to the next. Some of them were viewing TV shows and documentaries like normal, but some of the local channels seemed to be on stand by for some reason. I was a little bit confused and pointed out the fact that most of our local channels didn't end until past midnight. I looked over at Kyle, who wasn't really paying attention to any of my short comments. I was just about to ask if he felt better going home, but the vibration from my cell distracted me. I slapped my front pockets and then lifted up my back, so I could reach inside my back pocket, where my phone was tucked inside. I fished it out and checked who was calling me.

Wendy.

I groaned and nudged Kyle with my knee.  
'Dude, it's Wendy.'

He sighed in frustration, but said nothing. Only rolled his eyes and took the remote from me. I debated with myself, whether or not I should answer, because I knew Kyle had, had enough of my bitching.

I hesitated, but eventually picked up.  
'H-hello?'

'Stan?! Oh thank God you've picked up!'

'Wendy? What is it, what's wrong?'

I heard small pants coming from the other end, which only made me more confused. Was she running?

'Fuck, where are you?!'

'I'm at home with Kyle?'

'Sta- Holy crap!'

'Wendy I swear to God, if you're fucking Token right now, you can just forget it.'  
I pulled the phone away from my ear and was just about to hang up, but she shouted down the line, assuring me that it was nothing like that. She often did things like that to make me jealous. And it often worked, dammit.

'Stan, if I was, do you think I would have called you half a dozen times in the past hour?! Listen to me. Do you remember where my grandfather's workshop is?'

I paused and wondered why she was bringing this up.  
'The one that's on the other end of the town? Got one swinging basket, the other hal-'

'Half broken, yes, that's the one!'

I surprised myself with that one.  
'Well. What of it?'

'Look you gotta'. You gotta' go there. Go there now!'

'What is this, a PTA meeting or something?'

'This is serious! I'm gonna make my way there, take Kyle with you.'

I sighed, sinking further into the couch.  
'Wendy, that's the other end of town. I'm not walking all the way there, that would take like two hours.'

'Take your Mom's car?'

'In repair.'

'Your Dad's?'

I scoffed, but took note that her voice had lowered in tone.  
'Pff-yeah in my dreams.'

'Are they still alive?'

'Still alive? What? What the fuck are you talking about? Is that supposed to be some kind of sick joke?'

'Oh God, you don't know do you? Hasn't it reached your end yet?'

I pushed my posture back up and leant my elbows on my knees. I then started to feel fearful and worried about my parents and wondered if everything was alright. I didn't want Wendy knowing something about me that I didn't know about. Especially if it was personal.

'What hasn't reached my end yet? Wendy, you better tell me what the fuck is going on, because this isn't funny.'  
I bit my lip and saw Kyle look towards me with a concerned look.

'No, It's not- Just look for yourself, Stan!'

Just as she finished her sentence, the slamming of the front door startled, both, Kyle and I, causing me to drop my cell phone. I glanced at Kyle, and we both got up in one swift motion. I focused my eyes on where the noise was coming from and braced myself for anything that was about to happen.

'Stanley, get down here, we need to leave!'

'I'm in here, Dad.'

I shuffled towards the door and met him in the hallway. His shirt was stained in what looked like, blood. I gasped at the site of him, and heard Kyle do the same. I eyed him up and down, my mouth agape. I couldn't believe what a mess he looked. I asked him what happened, but he only shoved me towards the kitchen.

'Grab a weapon.'

'What for?!'

'We need to get your Mother. Shelly. Where's Shelly?'

'I think she's at her friend's 20th birthday or something.'

'Call her. Tell her to come home, now.'

I didn't see the point, but my Dad was never serious. His life was a joke. As far as he was concerned, as long as he had a beer in one hand he was happy. I had started to think that he was becoming a bit of a light alcoholic. If that's you can use that in a phrase. I suppose that was where I got my small drink problem from.

I tried to call my sister, but she failed to pick up. He told me to dial again, while he went to get a couple of his old golf clubs down in the basement. Kyle blurted out the question I was thinking,  
'What do think's going on, Stan? Did you see what was on your father's shirt?!'

'Yeah, I saw. I have no fucking clue what's going on, but it sounds bad.'

'Do you think I should go home? Y'know, just to see if everything's okay with my parents?'

I bit my lip in a way of giving the impression that I didn't know. Several moments later, my Dad came rushing into the kitchen with what looked like his tool kit and his old golf equipment in his hand. He dropped all that he had onto the table counter and had spread out all of the objects, so that we could see clearly what was there.

There were a variety of tools, which I remembered stealing from when I was a kid. There was a mallet, a hammer, a series of screwdrivers, a large wrench, three different types of pliers, a pair of rusting scissors, a switch blade, a driver gold club and the smaller objects such as nuts and bolts. I doubt they would have been useful though.

'Take something that you think you can knock someone down with. We need to go and get your Mother.'

'What?!' I chocked out.

Kyle took a step away from the table and I could feel him giving the same disbelief look I was giving to my Dad.

'We don't have time to dordle about! You'll see what I mean when we get outside, now lets go!'

We watched him stride out of the room with the golf club in his hand. Kyle and I gave each other the look of 'what the fuck?' and then a shrug. If this was serious, then I was going to do everything I could to protect myself. Obviously, I had no idea how _serious _this was actually going to be.

I decided to pick the battery powered screw driver, because I had used it as a defence weapon before and I also took the switch blade knife, fitting it into my side pocket. I believe Kyle picked the mallet, the scissors and one of the manual screwdrivers. We gave each other another telepathy look, before finding my Dad near the front door, peeping through the small window.

'So.. now what, Mr Marsh? Do you think my parents are okay?'

'They're probably fine. I called Sharon and she said they were fine, so I told them not to let anyone in, unless it was me. Not after what.. I saw.'  
He paused. I was going to say something ,but I didn't think he was going to answer the obvious question I could have asked.  
He added,  
'Now. Follow my lead and make no attempt to break silence.'

I scoffed.  
'Wow, Dad, it actually looks like you know what you're doing for once.'

He opened the door, following by a snigger.

* * *

**-bolognese sauce**

**IM SO HAPPY I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING FOR ONCE**

**Thanks guys!**


	3. Tip 3: Survival first

**When I read this it doesn't really seem very emotional, but ya know  
**

**-i appreciate the reviews!**

**Tip 2: Survival first. It comes before family.**

* * *

**Stan's POV -Part Two-**

'And... Let's go.'

We scurried out the door in single file. I copied my Dad's movements while Kyle was copying mine. We were sort of in a half crouching, half standing position, to make moving around a more easier and quicker way and to also, hopefully not get seen.

The Broflovski residence was only across the street and a couple of houses down. We began to cross the road in a hurriedly like manor. I kept my head down and kept my eyes locked on my Dad's feet. At the time, I was oblivious to what was going on around me, so I didn't notice the mayhem at first. Until Kyle called out for me in a quietly panicked tone.

'S-stan. Stan, look!'

I paused in my movements and turned my head to the side.  
'What, what is it?'

All I needed from Kyle was the look on his face to get the message. As I turned my head to the way his eye's were focusing on, all I could see was the town's devastation.

The sky first caught my eye. It was painted the colour blood orange, stained from the mixture of smoke, fire and intoxicated oxygen. Every inch of happiness that I had, had dissolved and every part of my body began to lose feeling. I felt numb with fear and worry. Of course, I would never admit that out loud, but it was such an unfamiliar feeling.

My gaze skimmed down, so that my eyes were level with the street. It didn't look so bad, I mean there were people scurrying in the distance, but nothing too close. Everything looked like it was coming from the town centre.

I didn't even begin to think about who could have been hurt. I was too busy thinking about myself and the situation I was in. I wasn't selfish, I suppose it was just a natural instinct. If me and the guys got into trouble, I would always think about what would happen to me without thinking about the consequences on the others. I didn't mean it in a selfish way, it was just the way my mind worked.

I got interrupted by Kyle as he shoved me, forcing me to snap out of my day dream and carry on making our way to the end. I didn't realise that my Dad had already got to the other side and was waving his hand, motioning us to get a move on before someone saw us.

We eventually made it, shadowing ourselves behind a large wheel barrow that was placed near one of our neighbour's garden gate.

'What do you suggest, Dad?'

'I don't know, I guess we could go round the back. Kyle you gotta' say which house it is, because I can't remember.'

'But you come round my house like every week.'

'Hey, I'm a middle aged man, you can't expect me to remember everything.'

I let out an amused grunt, as we went back to our position of follow the leader. The garden gates weren't particularly tall, so climbing over them wasn't as bad as I first thought they would be.

To begin with we planned out that Kyle and I would push my Dad over the fence and he would let us in, but that didn't go quite so well. My father weighed about a fucking ton. We managed to get him over the first fence, but with struggle. If Kyle was slightly stronger in muscle, then we would have been able to get him over, no problem. We decided that if we were going to get to Kyle's house with this strategy, it would take forever and we wouldn't get there in time. So with smart thinking, we agreed on tossing Kyle over first and he could let us through the garden gates that way.

It worked and we managed to get to the Broflovskis with no interruptions. Luckily, none of the neighbours saw us jumping through their property.

I stepped into the familiar garden, looking around, just to make sure it was the right one. Dam the grass needed a good cut.  
'Kyle, you got a key?'

'Nah, should be open.'

Dad took the lead again and attempted to open the back door, succeeding to our delight. He called out a 'Hello', as he wondered around the house, finding his way into the living room. I kept a small distance behind, still holding the electric device in my hand. It felt kinda stupid the way I was holding it and I wished I had picked up the hammer instead. That would have looked way cooler and probably easier to use for if I needed to use it. I doubt I would though. Getting into fights wasn't really my thing.

Kyle and I reached the living room to see Kyle's Dad spread out across the floor, with both of our Mom's sat around him. He had a wet flannel placed onto his head, a hot water bottle squished into the tip of his belt and his head rested upright onto a pillow.

Ike seemed to be leaning against the hallway door frame with a worried expression on his face. He looked half distracted by his stubby nails, because he was attacking them with his teeth rather aggressively. I remember when Ike had just turned 9, Kyle mentioned something about him developing a nervous disorder where he bit his nails whenever he got anxious. His condition wasn't exactly confirmed by a doctor or anything, but his parents came to that agreement, because Ike would come out with really warn out fingers. Like, it would have gotten that bad, that he had to have them bandaged up, because he would literally rip the skin off with his teeth. But that's another story.

I felt Kyle shove past me, dropping himself onto the floor next to his Dad. I stood there in shock and confused at the situation. What the fuck had happened to him?

'Dad? Dad! What the hell's wrong with him, Ma?!'

She scooted round and snaked an arm around Kyle's shoulder. She looked like she had been recently sobbing, by the redness in her eyes.  
'We.. we don't know..'

'What the hell happened?!'

'He came back from the store, saying he got attacked. He had a few spots of blood him, so I treated them. And ever since then, he's been.. like this.'

'Is it flu or something?  
I asked, approaching forward.

'Well we thought it was an allergic reaction to something. We called the ambulance, but they keep putting us on hold.'

'Yeah. That's what happened to us.'  
His Mom looked at Kyle as if to carry on, asking him what on earth for.

'Well..'  
Kyle looked at me for answers. But Dad took over,  
'We had a bit of an incident earlier. The boy's tried to call the police, but we couldn't get through.'

'Randy?! What the hell is that on your shirt?!'  
I watched as my Mom got up and took a step towards my Dad, studying his not-so-hygienic look.

'Huh?'  
He glanced down at his shirt and then realised.  
'Oh this. Look, I can explain.'

'Is that- Is that blood? Oh my God, that's blood, isn't it?!'

He stepped back and threw one of his hands in the air in defence, but Mom just kept striding towards him.

'What the fuck is that in your hand? Is that a golf club? Why have you got one of those?!'

'Mom, calm down, it's not what it looks, really. There's a reason why he-'

She spun around as I started to speak and cut me off midway. She then began to take long, quick steps towards me.  
'Stanley! Why have you got a-'  
She turned back round again and looked at Dad, then at me and then back to Dad again.

'What's going on?'

I sighed and lowered my voice.  
'We got a little bit of a problem.'

After my Mom had calmed down, Dad sat her down and told her what he had seen. He didn't say it particularly loud, so I couldn't quite hear. I didn't know for sure what he had actually seen yet, but I still took that all of this was serious. After all, I had witnessed the massive destruction in the street. Her reaction was pretty dumbfounded, which made me more curious as to what they were talking about.

I sat in front of Kyle and his Mom and eyed the way his Dad looked. His eyes were closed, but he seemed to be still breathing, which was a good sign. His face was as white as a sheet, with little droplets of sweat pattered around the skin. He definitely had a fever, but they were doing all they could to help him.

It wasn't until about another ten minutes later, when Mr Broflovski started hyperventilating. His eyes shot open and he started to heave. Shelia jumped towards him and placed her hands on his face. She called out to him a number of times, but I think he was lost in motion.

'Dad? Can you hear me? Dad! Ike, get some water, quick!'

I noticed earlier that there were already two jugs, filled with water. I didn't think Kyle realised though. But his brother left the room anyway to fetch what was wanted.

Both of my parents turned to see what was going on and rushed towards his presence. I sat still and observed the scene in shock and confusion.

I heard my Dad trying to pet talk him, trying to calm him down.  
'Gerald, it's okay, buddy. It's okay. You're okay.'

I shuffled backwards, feeling the need to get up. I lifted myself up and started to take baby steps back.

Mr Broflovski went from taking quick, unsteady breaths, to something I had never seen happen before, unless it was on the TV. His body looked like it had shut down completely and had gone into seizure mode. His body shook violently under the weight of his wife, my Father and Kyle, who were trying to help stop from what was happening. It was insane. I had never seen anything like it before.

My feet wouldn't move. I wanted to help, but I couldn't. Kyle gave me the look of 'fucking help me, dude!', but I just stood there.

His vibrating body eventually came under control after about thirty seconds or so, but this time he lacked any movement at all.

'Gerald? Oh God, Gerald!'

'Check for a pulse, Randy!'  
He complied and picked up his wrist. Failing to feel anything, he moved towards the top of his neck. Still nothing. He then lowered one side of his head towards Mr Broflovski's mouth to see if he could hear any form of breathing. Nothing.

'He's.. he's not breathing..'

The whole room fell silent. I felt a lump form in my throat again. Everyone's face had the look of disbelief.

'What? No. NO! Gerald, wake up, wake up! Do something Randy!'  
Mrs Broflovski started to shake her husband at the shoulders, in an attempt to snap him out of it. My Dad told her he didn't know how to do CPR, so Mom had a go at it.

She started to pump at his chest. I didn't think she knew what to do either, because there was no particular set rhythm. I scanned the room to see that Kyle had actually left the room by now. I looked around, and caught sight of his green hat in the kitchen. I moved towards the other room and approached him, hesitantly.

He stood, leaning over one of the kitchen counters, with his head in his hands. He looked just as clueless as the rest of us.

'I-I can't take this, Stan.'

I opened my mouth, but then re-closed it again, having nothing to say.

'My Dad's never been ill. Is he dead? He can't be though, right?'  
He leaned up and took a step towards me. He pressed his hands on my shoulders and asked if this was all really happening. Still, I had nothing to say.

Our eyes locked for what seemed like forever. It was the emotion in his eyes that got me. They were filling up with pain and fear. I felt awful.

All I could do was hug him. I was so fucking awkward when it came to sympathy, despite Kyle being my best friend.  
He mumbled 'No, he's going to be fine. He's okay.' into my shoulder. All I felt like I could do was tap his back with my hand, in a form of comfort.

I did the best I could to do so and stayed with him until we heard this sudden outburst come from the same room I came out of not too long ago.

'WHAT THE FUCK?!'

Both of mine and Kyle's heads snapped round to where the outburst was coming from. The voice definitely belonged to my Dad. We both rushed into the living room to see Mr Broflovski on top of my Mom. He had his fucking face buried into one of her shoulders, with my Dad trying to pull him off.

I quickly rushed over to her, who now had the weight lifted off of her and had transferred it onto my Father. I frowned, keeping my eyes on my best friend's Dad. His face was fucking awful. His eyes were so fucked up, I couldn't even explain it. They looked like a bit like my grandfather's, as he was pretty much blind anyways, but this was more unnatural. His pupils looked ghostly and as white anything. The next thing I noticed was his mouth. It was drooling with thick, sticky blood. Once I took a look at my Mom's shoulder, I knew exactly what was going on.

Kyle's Dad had bitten my Mom.

You only ever saw this shit happen in the films. I fucking hated zombies. They were one of my worst fears. I used to have dreams about them and would wake up during the night, turning my old night-light on. Yes, I still owned a fucking night-light, whatever.

Everybody knew what happened when one of these things bit a non-infected. They became one of them. I glanced down at my Mom. She looked like she was in incredible pain, due to the screaming. It hurt to see her squirming around like that, so I refused to believe that anything like _that_ would happen to her. I didn't want to. She was my Mom. She wasn't going to die.

I went to kneel down to try and help her, but I realised that Mr Broflovski was now going after my Dad. I didn't know what to do at first. He struggled around in my Dad's grip. He had his forearms wrapped around the front of his neck, in an attempt to strangle him.

'Stan! He's gonna bite me!'

There was no way I was going to allow that to happen, so I jumped forward and looked around for what to grab. That was when I realised the appliance in my hand. I studied it carefully, before squeezing it tightly between my fingers and lifting it up.

I took another step forward, watching out for Mr Broflovski's frantic arms. I heard Kyle call out for me,  
'Stan, what the fuck?! Wait.. What are you..'

I didn't want to do this, but it was either that or we all got killed. I closed my eyes, looking away from inhumane figure. I gripped the plastic trigger and pushed my arm straight forward. I didn't see anyone's reaction, but God I could definitely hear it. Kyle was screaming at me, his Mom was crying her eyes out and my Dad groaned out in disgust and grief.

I kept inching my hand further into the aimed area of the head. My teeth gritted together and I could feel spurts of blood spraying onto my cheeks. It was fucking vile.

I released my finger and retreated my arm back to it's side. I didn't bother pulling the thing back out of his head.

As soon as Dad had dropped him, I stumbled backwards and hesitantly opened my eyes, staring down at the, now deceased, body. I gagged at the sight and couldn't believe that it was me that had killed him. Even if he was a..  
'Holy.. holy shit. You.. you killed him. You fucking murdered him!'

I twisted round to see Kyle storming towards me, holding a deep frown and heated cheeks. His fists were clenched tight and for a moment, I thought he was going to hit me, which would have been understandable. But he didn't.

'Kyle, he was going to kill my Mom!'

'That doesn't give you the right to fucking kill him! Why the fuck?!'

'Did you fucking see his eyes, Kyle? I'm sorry, I really am. But it's like in those games we used to play. You saw for yourself what was going on outside!'

'He's my Dad! You- you murdered my own flesh and blood! How could you fucking do that, Stan?!'

My Father took a step in front and placed a hand on my best friend's shoulder.  
'Kyle. I saw the same thing happen outside. He would have killed you otherwise.'

I looked over at my Mom to see Mrs Broflovski cradling her in her arms. I didn't think she saw and wanted to see what had happened to her husband, which was weird, because she didn't seem affected by it at all.

Well I say she didn't seem affected by it, I mean that her reaction wasn't as drastic as Kyle's.

I thought it would have been better if we all stuck together, but I realised that Ike hadn't returned from earlier. I left Dad so he could speak to Kyle like he had with my Mother, while I went to find his brother. I headed for the stairs, taking two at a time. I first checked his bedroom and then the other two. I then scanned the bathroom and the small storage cupboard, but there was no sign of him. I called out, but he left no answer. I then started to panic.

I hurried back downstairs and checked the basement. Still nothing. I leant against the stone wall and cupped my eyes with my hand. I didn't know what to do. For some reason I felt responsible for everything. I didn't want to think about my Mom, so I thought about where we could go, because after this town gets invaded by cold killers, we wouldn't have been able to stay here. I thought about going to the country, but there would be nothing there for us, especially with a large group. Then I thought about the conversation I had with Wendy earlier. Her grandfather's work shop. It was right at the other end of the town. I had only been there once, but I did remember the layout. I didn't know exactly where the place was, but I knew a good whereabouts. If my memory served me right, I believed that it was opposite a small coffee cafe'.

If we had to go somewhere quick, that would be the place, right? After all, I had to see how Wendy was doing. If she was already there, then getting into the place wouldn't be a problem.

I lost track of my thoughts when I heard a brutal scream coming from upstairs. I sprinted back up, leading into the living room. I took a guess that it was Kyle's Mom in trouble, and to my surprise, it actually was. I looked around to see a variety of different scenes. Kyle stood with a bloody mallet in both of his hands, held below his waist. His face was in complete shock. And then I saw both of our Mother's.

They were on the floor. And.. I didn't think they were awake. Their heads were facing the floor, in a pool full of blood. I missed what had happened, but there was no sign of my Dad.

Kyle and I exchanged looks.  
'What- what happened?!'

He smiled faintly at me, trembling and his eyes moist.  
'Ma, she uh- Oh God.'  
I stepped towards him, as he wiped a couple of falling tears away. I placed my arms around him and hugged him, holding back my emotions. He didn't move an inch.

'We need to get out of here, Kyle.'  
He failed to say anything, so I continued,

'I know somewhere we can go, but we have to travel by foot.'  
I felt him nod into my shoulder. I patted him on the back, before retreating.

A loud thump coming from the door grabbed both our attentions. I snapped my head towards where the sound was coming from and swallowed, heavily. I heard Kyle's breathing become more heavy as the noise grew louder. It wasn't just thumping. Scrapes and cracking wood became louder and the hollering from the street became the new background noise.

I heard Dad storm into the living room, grabbing his golf club.  
'We need to leave. Now.'  
He grabbed us both by the shoulders, forcing us to move towards the kitchen, where the back door was. My Dad's expression amazed me. And not for the good part. I had never seen him so.. distracted(?) before. His cheeks were puffy and his eyes were bloodshot. It didn't look like he had been crying, just distraught. I hadn't actually taken in that my Mother was dead yet, so at the time, I was confused with his expression.

I stumbled out the door, but it only just came to me that Kyle's brother was still in there. I stopped in my tracks and began to pace myself back inside. My Dad grabbed me by the shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

'Ike's in there!'

Kyle gasped and ran for the door.  
'Oh shit, Ike!'

Dad slammed the door shut, before blocking Kyle in his tracks. He gave my Father a look of horror as he attempted to get past.  
'My brother is in there! We can't fucking leave him, he'll die!'

'We're not going back in there.'

Kyle twitched his head to the side, holding a possibly even bigger frown.  
'What?'  
He looked back at me to see if I would hold my input, before looking back at the door adding,  
'Fine. You wait here, I'll go in by myself.'

'Kyle.. If you go back in there, you won't have time to get back out. I'm not prepared to loose someone else.'

'Are you fucking serious?! Get out the way!'

I backed away, as Dad ignored him and began to push Kyle away from the door in a light manor. There was no doubt that I wanted to run back in there, get Ike and leave just as much as Kyle, but there were several reasons why I didn't.

For one: I didn't want to see my deceased Mother. Or Mr and Mrs Broflovski for that matter.  
Two: I had no idea where Ike was, even after giving a quick search around the house.  
Three: Even if we did find him, getting back out would be virtually impossible, as that door wasn't made of steel.  
And Four: This town was going to get pretty busy within the next possible hour, so I wasn't fond of hanging around.

I felt Kyle's eyes on me. I was such a pushover when it came to being guilt tripped.  
'Stan? Stan, he's only nine.'

'I know, Kyle.'

He asked the oncoming question on whether I was going to let a nine year old die or not. That made me feel really bad. But I tried not to let that get in the way. I gave a quick explanation to him why we couldn't go back in and apologised about four times. We finally persuaded him that we would wait until all of this would calm down and we would come back later to look for him. He obviously wasn't very happy with that idea at first, but for some reason, it eventually worked.

By now, we could hear a hell of a racket coming from inside the house, so we decided to leave. Dad suggested taking the backstreets, meaning we had to travel via foot and through the woods.

Kyle was understandably mopey. He stumbled behind, with his head in his hand for most of the journey. I couldn't explain how bad I felt. But I meant what I had said about finding Ike later, though. I would find him. Even if that meant dead or alive.

Oh Jesus, that just made me feel even worse.

This was so fucked up.

* * *

**Just a quick little side note- some of it may have sounded a bit 'that happened a bit quick' or 'wow not much emotion there jhee' but i did what i could (im not very good when it comes to writing emotion, you feel me)**

**but hope you enjoyed:)**

**-The next chapter will most likely be involving Craig's POV-**


	4. Tip 4: Any weapon is crucial

**remind me not to start a new story during exams._.**

**Tip 4: Any weapon is crucial, even if it _is _a tree branch.**

* * *

**Craig's POV**

I'm gonna cut the whole bullshit story thing. I'm not even gonna give you a 'basically what happened was..' because that's in the past, and this is the present.

When your best friend calls up in the middle of the night and tells you there's a fucking zombie apocalypse outside, you don't tend to believe them. Well who would? It's the same as them ringing you up and saying 'Oh yeah, by the way Craig, your whole family is gonna die in the next ten minutes, but don't feel too bad, because it's happening to the whole town and probably the whole of America too. Basically, end of the world.'

But anyway, that doesn't matter anymore. I managed to get away, if you could tell. I don't know how, but I did. I should have died. But if it wasn't for me actually getting off my ass and taking a look outside to see what the hell Clyde was talking about, I would have been stunned by the form of my huge father sprinting towards me. Which was weird, because in any other situation, I would have told Clyde how much of a retard he was, flipped him off and hung up. But for some reason, I actually got out of my own bed to have a look.

I didn't really know what to expect, but yeah. It was exactly how he said it was. Don't get me wrong, I was surprised and shocked at first, but to be honest, I thought _'zombies_' was a bit overrated. Sure, I saw people frantically bolting around the roads with blood spurring out of their mouths, but come on. Zombies? Seriously? For me, the word zombie sounds like it's from a stupid, badly directed, top cliché zombie film. I'd like to call it as a rage virus or something. No it's not the same thing. And no I didn't take that from a film. Whatever.

So all that matters now is that I'm on my own, trapped inside this warn down convenience store. Normally, my instincts would have told me not to go into any building that provided supplies, but I had a deep fucking wound that needed stitching up. And no, it wasn't a bite mark before you ask. It was a slash wound. I got tackled by one of those bastards and we ended up violently wrestling. I was trying to stop it from taking a huge ass chunk from my neck. I ended up being shoved into the window of this corner shop and the glass shattered into big-ass chunks. One landed into my right bicep. I'm not even gonna explain the pain, so I'll cut that out. I've just gone back on my word when I said I wasn't gonna give a basic, but whatever.

But anyway, after the glass stabbed me in the arm, I used it as a knife, and shanked the dam thing into it's head. I couldn't even tell you who it was, the figure looked so unfamiliar.

There were about six more of those things coming after me, so I had nowhere else to go but to the door that hid at the back of the room. I first thought it was the back door that led to the street where they throw out the garbage, but as I barged into it, I had the misfortune of landing into an empty office. And by empty, I mean nobody was in there. The place was a tip, however. Empty boxes thrown across the place, a broken chair, doodled tables and a tiny staff bathroom. This place has been out of business for a while.

I locked the door and stacked as many tough objects as I could, until I felt like it was enough to withstand the door from bastards on the other side.

So now this is the present. I'm currently crouching on the floor, examining the features of the room. There's a tiny window, just about big enough to fit my ass in. But that's it. There is no way I'm getting out through there. I suppose I am tall enough to reach the ceiling, but even that's a stretch. I could use one of the chair legs to break through the roof, but for one, that would make a huge racket and two, that takes effort. I don't want to injure myself anymore than the gauze in my fucking arm.

I lift myself up from the floor and stumble into the restroom. I notice the mirrored cupboard ontop of the sink and yank it open. All that is in there is an old toothbrush (ew), a pair of tweezers, an empty antidepressant pill box and a cup. Nothing useful. Even the antidepressants would make the annoying pain coming from my arm ease it out a little, but no. Oh well. I guess I'll have to Tucker myself up the right way and deal with the pain.

What I do see, however, is three different sized pins staring at me from the floor, below the sink. I kneel down and pick the biggest one up. I stare at it longingly, before I realise what I'm suppose to use it for. Fuck, I know what this means. I sigh and retrieve back into the unappealing office. Now I think about it, this room was probably used for storage, with all the empty boxes everywhere. The 'ONE-STOP GROCERIES' logo is plastered on every box's side. Whatever, I don't care.

I find myself crouching down again on the carpeted floor, chewing away my long sleeved shirt. Getting thread out of a piece of clothing is a bitch. I only just got my braces out last week and you would think that everything would be easier to do with a metal free mouth. Nope, still trying to get used to live without them. My teeth are so fucking annoying and I hate them, even if they are finally straight. Two and a half fucking years of wearing braces. That's two and a half fucking- do you even know how long that is? At least they're straighter than Cartman's now, the fucking cocksucker.

Anyway, back to the point. The thread isn't coming out of my sleeve, so I figure that there is only one other way I'm going to be able to get it. I close my eyes and carefully take my hat off of my head. I'm dreading this so much. My chullo and I have been through so much. I mumble an apology and begin to nibble the dangling string. No, it's not just a piece of clothing. It's my chullo. There's only one thing I actually care for more than anything in this world and that's my chullo, and Stripe.

Fuck.

Stripe.

I forgot all about him until now, how could I?! I topped his food barrel up this evening and I planted some treats round for him, so hopefully he will be alright for the time being. But fuck, I'm a terrible owner. Zombie apocalypse can suck my dick.

I manage to regain my thoughts back together and a long line of blue string snakes it way out. It's way too thick to fit through the hole inside the pin, so I tear it apart until it's small enough. Once I'm satisfied with the way it looks, I tear most of my right sleeve off. I clench my teeth together as the pain in my arm shoots through me. It hasn't stopped bleeding yet, but I should have that under control. Just as long as I don't bring anymore attention to myself.

I spit the long piece of cloth to the side and study the gauze. This is going to hurt. I've only ever seen this sort of thing once before. Back in the ninth grade, Tweek ended up getting his leg caught in some barbed wire. He didn't want his parents finding out, because he said that they would think that he cut himself again. Token was the only one with any experience, so he stitched it up for him. It wasn't a huge cut or anything, but it was pretty bad. Not as bad as mine at the moment though.

I have this thing with pain. It makes you feel good, for deep people. That sounds super fucking emo, but it's not a huge deal to me. But I'm not saying that sticking a needle into my skin doesn't hurt, because it fucking does. It was more of an annoying pain, but it send me cussing out loudly nonetheless. I take the fabric that I threw on the floor in front of me and use it to muffle my sounds. I thread the needle in and out of my skin until it's somewhat sealed. Well. You know what I mean.

The sleeve drops from my mouth and my breathing turns heavy. I squint my eyes and cup my hand over the wound. Now, it just aches. Hopefully it will only take about a week to seal up. My body heals quickly, it's kinda cool. I reach for the fabric and realise that it's not big enough to wrap round properly, so I rip off the left sleeve and sew the two together. My arms look uneven now, but I don't bother to care. I begin to wrap the now, suitably length rag around the top half of my arm. It could do with being a bit longer, but it'll have to do for now.

Once half satisfied with the patched injury, I lift myself up and pat myself off. I'm not going to sit here feeling sorry for myself. That's not what I do, so I try and think of a plan.

Slapping my jean pockets, I remember that I slipped my phone into them just before I pegged it out of the house. I dial the first number I see. Clyde. He's the one that got me in this mess, he can get me out.

I don't care if it's not his fault.

I await for an answer and soon enough, he picks up.

'Craig? Dude, what happened?!'

'Doesn't matter. Where are you.' I deadpan.

'I went to find Tweek. He said he was in trouble, so I've taken the backstreets and I'm gonna see if I can find him.'

'Okay, fine. You remembered a weapon, yeah?'

'Yeah, I've got one. Oh, man, this is so fucked up!'

'I know.'  
I scratch the back of my head.

'Hey, uh- Craig?'

'Mm?'  
I shove my hat back over my head, struggling so with one hand.

'Is.. Is this real?'

I scoff. 'Clyde, I've just spent the last 10 minutes sewing up a stab wound, with nothing but a pin and a piece of string. I got fucking chased by half a dozen of those things and now I'm trapped inside a warn down corner shop, trying to figure a way out of this dump. I think this is a little more than one of your basic nightmares.'

'Oh..'  
His voice just turned hallow. Okay, so now I know something's happened.

'Shit. What happened, Clyde.'

'Dad, he.. I had to-' He stutters. 'I couldn't do it, Craig. Dammit, I couldn't do it!'

I nod my head in acknowledgement, beginning to realise what he's talking about. I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I know that Clyde and his Dad are pretty close. After his Mom died, all they had was each other, so I can't even begin to imagine how his reaction would go if anything bad happened to his Dad. Which at the moment, sounded very likely.

I don't wanna press the subject, so I'll drop it for now until I see him.  
'Clyde, it's alright. We'll talk about it later, okay? Right now you need to go get Tweek and I'll find a way to get Token.'

'But.. What about everyone else?'

'I don't care about everyone else.'

'What about your family, Craig?'

'Dead.' I quickly respond. Any feelings I have are pushed aside when I'm trying to concentrate on something and it showed in my tone of voice.  
'Look,' I continue, 'You're stable right?'

'Yeah.. I think so-'

'Good. I've gotta find a way outta here. As soon as you get Tweek, call me, okay?'

'I dunno if I can. My battery is on a 25, I don't know if it'll last that long.'

I lean my head back and groan.  
'Dammit, Clyde. Right, meet me at Token's guest house.'

'What if it's locked?'

'He keeps a spare under the mat.'

'Kay. I'll try and be as quick as I-'

He pauses. I call his name, but all I hear the sound of violent groaning and the sound of tree branches snapping in the distance.  
'HOLY SHIT!'

'Clyde?'  
'Clyde?!' I repeat, raising my voice.

I click the loud speaker button to see if I could hear any distant sounds. Actually, it sounded more like his phone was stuffed into one of his pockets. I continue to stay on the line to see if I could hear anything that may be importance to me, but I can't hear anything. I can't even tell you if he's running or not.

Several moments later, the line hangs up and I'm left in a shitty mood. There was no need for that. Fucking cliché for him to leave me like that with no clue as to what just happened. Dick.

If you haven't figured already, I hate cliché's.

The door that led to the main shop begins to get on my nerves. It hasn't stopped banging since I first got in here, but now it's giving me a headache. I need to get out of here.

I noticed a hint of light come from the bathroom earlier from when I was in there, but I thought it was just very bad lighting. I lead myself into the unhygienic restroom. I look around the whole room, but fail to see any form of window. Until I look up. I see that the window is big enough for at least two of me to get through. The corner of my lip creeps into a determined smile. I realise that I don't have anything to protect myself with, so I wonder back into the other room and break off one of the -already broken- chair legs. It's wooden, so there is a slight sharpness to it, but who am I kidding. This sucks ass. Oh well, guess it's better than nothing.

Finding my way back into the bathroom, I bit my lip and proceeded to climb onto the sink. The bowl is smaller than my foot and if this thing cant take my weight, I'm screwed.

I don't waste time, so I use one foot to balance my weight and the other to do the climbing. I can just about reach the frame, so I unlock it first and slip my hands through. My arm fucking kills, but I'm trying to stop it from disturbing my escape. I push my strongest foot into the wall and once I lift up, I use the other to climb up. I am eventually able to push the window wide open and I use all of my upper body strength to get out of there. Best way I can describe it is like getting out of a swimming pool. I'm just so fucking glad I'm not a shortass.

So right now I'm standing on top of the roof. Mind you, this corner shop isn't exactly tall or anything, but I can just about see more of the town's disruption. Fuck me, it's gotten worse since I last looked out the window. There's fire in multiple buildings, and the screaming wont fucking stop. It's beginning to piss me off.

I feel like I'm safe for the moment, so I fish my phone from my pocket and dial Token's number.

He doesn't answer, so I dial again. No answer. I frown and try to call Clyde again. And now, he doesn't answer. I don't bother calling again, I know the outcome. This was so obvious. I itch the back of my head and let out a deep sigh. I'm still going to Token's.

I make my way to the edge of the building and jump off it, landing on my palms and the balls of my feet. I push myself up and head West, to where Token's house is.

* * *

Normally it would take me around twenty minutes to get there, as his house is on the posh side of town (yes can you believe that there is a posh side to South Park), but considering that there's a fucking catastrophe taking place, it's taking longer than expected. I recently lost my pathetic weapon and found a metal pipe in one of the garbage cans, so now I'm using that. It's still pretty shit, but It's all that's around at the moment, so until I find a suitable weapon that wont fuckin' break on the first hit, this'll have to do.

I walk round the backs of houses and pass one or two people that have the same idea. I accidentally bump into a guy who freaks the fuck out, because he wasn't looking where he was going. I startle myself, but soon figure that he's not one of _those._ Actually, come to think of it, he looks rather familiar. Oh shit, this guy goes to my high school.

'Thomas?'

'Fu- Oh shit, Craig?'

I briefly smile at him, before quirking an eyebrow. Dam I haven't spoken to this kid in a while.

'How are you and stuff?'

I scoff.  
'Tom, I don't think now is a great time to be discussing small talk.'

'Fuck, sorry. Do you know what's going on? My parents have gone crazy so I came outside and my dam neighbour -MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER- started freakin' sprinting at me! Everything's going crazy, man- OH SHIT.'

I crack a smirk. I forgot how much I liked this guy.  
'I know. I've seen it too. Say, where you heading now?'

He twitches.  
'FUCK- I don't know, I was hoping to find somewhere to hide!'

I sigh. I can't leave this guy alone. There's no way he's gonna make it out alive. I don't know how he's got this far, but what the heck? So have I.

'Alright, well I'm going to Token's. His property is pretty big, you can tag along if you want.'

'You sure?'

I nod and continue to walk in the same direction as I was before, just before I got distracted. I feel him follow close behind me, mumbling a 'Oh thanks, man.'.

The journey was going smoothly until now. Up ahead I see two figures. By the way they are walking, they don't look like your average town folk. They aren't too far up ahead, but they haven't noticed us yet, so I grab Tom's shoulder and shove him into this tiny dead-end alley way. He shrieks and I tell him to calm down. God does this guy remind me of Tweek.

'Look, there's a couple of those things up there and we need to take them out.'

'What? Why don't we just wait til' they pass us?'

I poke my head round the corner and then turn back again.  
'Because we haven't got all night. Come on.'

I begin to silently walk along the edge of the path with the metal pipe firmly in my palms.

'Craig, wait! I don't have anything to hit them with.'  
A moment later he adds the 'OH SHIT' tick remark, which startles the figures in front.

I twist my head over my shoulder and frown. I see a near by tree with very few branches on. I shuffle towards it and jump up to reach one of the heavier looking branches. I manage to snap it off, using mainly my left arm, because the wound on my other is hurting like a bitch.

I hand it to Thomas and proceed to carry on striding forwards. We keep to the long shadow and thinking about it, it would be possible to just sneak past them. But I'm a stubborn bastard and I need to hit something.

I hear Thomas trying to keep in his ticks by making small squirming noises. I can tell he's trying his best to bite his tongue. No matter how much I like this guy, if he blows this, I'm gonna' fuckin' rage.

My eyes don't move off of them. I wave my hand towards Tom and point to the smaller guy, gesturing him to get that one, while I go for the taller one. I see him nod in the corner of my eye and I mouth the words: Three, two... one.

I lunge forward and swing the metal pole into the side of it's head. It jolts back and I swing for it again. I hear the crack of the skull collide with the metal and I don't stop hitting. I can only hear the shrieks and cussing sounds coming from Tom's ticks, but I don't look up. I continue to destroy it's head and give it several more blows. Even though the face is pretty much smashed up now, I still refuse to stop. There's something about this guy that I feel the need to completely ruin every aspect of.

And that's when I realise who it is. Mr, fucking Mackey. The fucking school counsellor who's given me a countless number of reports and lectures about how much of a 'bad' fucking influence I am. Not that I care what he thinks, but I was almost held back a year, because of this bastard. My grades were fine, but my '_attitude'_ wasn't. Fucking stupid. At least I wont have to listen to his idiotic tone of voice ever again, that's for sure.

The pipe I was using hasn't exactly been destroyed, but I know it's not going to last for too long.

I look over at Tom and smirk at the way he handled the situation. It doesn't look like he killed the thing, but that doesn't really matter. If it was someone else I knew and hated, I would definitely finish off the job, but strangers are a waste of energy. Actually, everyone I know is a waste of fucking energy.

'You okay?' I ask, panting.

He squints his eyes and lets out a shaky sigh. He doesn't say anything for a moment, but when he does finally speak, all he lets out is his violent tourettes.  
'SHIT. FUCKING COCKSUCKER- OH SHIT.'  
His head shook from side to side as he dropped the large tree branch. He growled in between each word, obviously attempting to hold it all in.

I bring the pipe back up into my hands and throw it over my shoulder, not caring about how messy the blood is going to make on my t-shirt. I take a step towards him and look down at the not-quite-dead body beneath us.

'Hm.'  
I raise my arm and place it on his shoulder.  
'I almost forgot how cool you were.'

He cusses again, stepping away from the two bodies. I can understand why he's all twitchy and all, but come on. Has he never seen a zombie movie before? Most of them are full of shit, yeah, but everyone's seen at least one of them in their life, surely.

'I've never killed anyone before, man!'

'Technically you haven't killed anyone. And who's gonna' find out anyway? The cops?' I scoff and begin to continue the route down the dark path.

I nod my head back and call out to him.  
'Come on. There's gonna' be more of them soon if you don't hurry up.'

I hear him jump over the bodies on the floor and he soon catches up to me, forever holding a frantic facial expression.

We walk along the path and even though beating the shit out of the worst councillor in this town felt fucking amazing, I don't wanna get caught up like that again. I hate time wasting.

I slip out my cell from my jeans and try to call Token again. He fails to pick up so I stupidly see if Clyde is available. My luck tells me his phone has died, so I skim through my contacts, finding Tweek. I dial his number but I still receive no answer. I cuss, slipping it back into my pocket. I would try to call Bebe or Jimmy or something, but right now, I didn't particularly care. The only people I somewhat care about are my three friends. Oh and Thomas. He's still pretty cool.

He still goes to South Park High, but I never really see him around anymore. I think he goes to special classes in some lessons, because he still can't keep his ticks under control. I remember Tweek going to them for a short while, but unlike Tom, Tweek doesn't disrupt the class. So he got sent back to his daily routine, which I think he preferred.

But anyway.  
The path doesn't continue for too long, and we eventually end up in the posh part of South Park. Why wealthy people want to spend their money in such a shit hole of a town like this, I don't know. But I'm glad, because I wouldn't have met Token otherwise. Normally I have huge hate for rich kids, because they turn out like spoilt little shits, but Token plays it safe. Sometimes, half of us don't even remember how loaded Token is at times. Until he holds a party, of course.

His street is just up ahead, but the area looks awkwardly quiet. Well, maybe not quiet, but the place definitely looks abandoned. I don't touch too much on the subject, so we use it as an advantage to cross the road. The Black residence is only, now, four houses down.

I swear to God if Clyde and that lot aren't here by the time we get there, I'm going to be annoyed. I hate waiting for people without knowing where they are or why they are being stalled.

And no, it's not a fucking anxiety problem before you make any assumptions.


	5. Tip 5: Always have a sense of humour

**Tip 5: Always have a sense of humour.  
**

* * *

**Kenny's POV**

I wake up in my bed. Well, if you would call the shitty mattress that I have no intend on cleaning any time soon, a bed. Hm. I wonder what happened this time. Choking? Drowning? Stabbed? My thoughts will gather up soon.

I press a palm to my head and squeeze the pulsing pain. For some reason, the older I get, the longer it takes for my previous wounds to heal. Don't fuckin' ask how this shit works. All I know, is that I wake up in my bed after I die and that's it. I have no relocation in going to Heaven or Hell. I used to, but not anymore. I stopped believing in it after a while. Everything feels neutral after I come back. It doesn't feel like I've been 'reborn' into a new body that's even precious than before and is 'meant to be'. It's all bullshit. Once I come back, the reality for me is that I end up back in the same old body.

If anyone thinks immortality is a blessing, then take it from someone who knows. It's a fuckin' curse.

Anyways, now that's off my chest, I think about the less intelligent thoughts, roaming around inside my brain. Like why the fuck am I only half naked? I'm in nothing but my boxers. I'm not even wearing my fuckin' parka (yes, I still wear the damn thing). And why my boxers? You would think that they would just save half the time and dump my body here in all it's natural glory?

Besides, being nude is more comfy.

I give myself a stretch, before lifting myself up from my bed and getting changed. I gaze into the half shattered mirror and study my look. By the looks of things, I probably have only been gone a couple days. Oh well. Better luck next time.

I run a hand through my hair and puff out my cheeks. I really need to eat. It sucks living in America, with it's shitty economy. I can't even get a stable job with a good enough wage.

I pick up my shitty phone from the side and check the time. 10am. That's alright. At least that hasn't changed. I'm always waking up at that exact time, but I dunno know why. I just know that if I wake up at any other time, then something's very wrong. But this is fine, so I have nothing to worry about.

I move towards the set of draws and grab a shirt and a pair of jeans. I slide them on, along with an orange jumper, which is beginning to get way too dirty. Even for me. Ah well.

I'm just about to leave the house and see where everyone's at, but that's when memories from my death come flooding through. I squint my eyes and suddenly feel overwhelmed from the sudden rush of information. I don't believe it at first, but as I start to become more familiar with the past, I begin to realise that this is all probably true. My flashbacks never lie.

Steadying myself, I think about what I should do. I know I have to find Kevin and Karen, because it would kill me if anything happened to them. They would probably be fine though. Kev can be pretty badass at times, especially during fights. But he can also be very careless. He's forgetful and he looses a lot of things. Fuck, I'll be so mad if he lets anything happen to Karen.

I cautiously step out of my bedroom and look up and down the tiny hallway. Everything seems so quiet. Too quiet for my liking.

I peek into the box room that's supposed to be Karen's bedroom, only to find it how she left it.

I then move into the bathroom and then proceed to check all the other rooms, just to make sure I'm alone. I don't even have a fucking clue about what happened to my parents.

I trot carelessly down the stairs and enter the kitchen. I swing the fridge open, to find it pretty much empty. Just my luck. Sighing, I slam it shut and decide to call Stan to see what the fuck is going on.

I call his cell and wait for him to pick up. I'm instantly put onto voicemail, so I guess his phone's off. The same happens with Kyle. Apart from the fact that Kyle's phone is actually on, he just isn't answering.

I groan in annoyance and decide to call his home phone. I'm not gonna give up. I'm going to call everyone I know until I get an answer.

For a moment, I don't think anyone is actually going to pick up, but to my surprise, he actually does. After a bit of delay his voice croaks out a nervous ''Hello?''

My head perks up. ''Kyle?''

''Kenny? Kenny McCormick?''

''Yeah?''

''Kenny, it's Ike.''

''Ike?!' I spit out. ''Dude, where's your brother? Or Stan, you know where Stan is?''

''N-no. I take from that, that you don't know where he is either, huh.'' He replies. ''But something happened here and I.. I hid. I hid and I haven't moved for the past three days.''

I nod my head and bite my lip.  
'Where have you been hiding?'

''In the attic. It's cold up here, Kenny. I've been having to live on Ma's cans of beans that she stores up here. And you know the worst part? I don't even like beans.''

I hold back a laugh, because this is a serious matter and instead I try to sympathize with him.

''It's alright, Ike. Look, everything's gonna be fine. Y' just have t-''

''It's okay.'' He interrupts. ''You don't need to bullshit to me, I know what's going on. I know Pa's dead. I just don't want to be alone anymore. It makes me feel.. anxious. And alone. And cold. And frightening. Oh, and also anxious, did I mention that one?''

I nod again, but realise what he's trying to do.  
''Hey, man, I get that you're in a bad situation, but you don't have to guilt trip me! If you want me to come save your ass, then I will. You don't have to go all Broflovski on me and force me to feel insanely bad.''

He snickers over the line. ''Sorry.''

''Naw, It's alright. I'll come get you.''

''How long will you be?''

''Shouldn't take too long. I don't live that far.''  
I know I have to go and rescue Ike, because if Kyle ever found out that I even _thought_ about taking the chance to leave him, he would kill me. And it doesn't matter if it is the end of the world, I don't want to have that guilt weighing over me. Besides, this could be a fun little mission.

''Okay. I guess I'll see you in a bit then.''

''Yup. See ya then.''

I hang up and slip my phone back into my pocket. I'm just about to head out, but I hear a loud thumping sound coming from the basement. I walk towards the room and hesitantly open the basement door. All I can see is darkness. Something's definitely down there, because the noise suddenly gets louder as I open the door. I think about whether or not it's a stupid idea to go down there, but if I'm able to manage to flick the switch on, then I would be able to see what's down there for myself. It's most likely one of those things, but it's not like I can't defend myself or anything.

So that's what I do. It's a bit of a stretch to grab hold of the dangling string, but there's no freakin way I'm going in there. I pull on the small plastic handle and in time, the light flickers on.

I completely jump out of my skin, because I didn't realise how close the figure was to the door. I almost fell off my feet at first. It's literally so close to me, I'm surprised I didn't touch it. Or her, should I say. It's a female. Her hair's a dark, murky colour. Almost like a dirty red. Of what I can see, she's wearing a filthy green top, which seems to be half ripped. She's not facing me though. She's facing forward, towards the bottom of the stairs. The signs are already clear, but I want to make sure I know who it is.

I hesitate, but speak up, in a shallow voice.  
'Mom?''

Slowly, her head twists round, along with her body, her head shaking as she's doing so. I keep my eyes on her as she meets my gaze. Fuck, her eyes are like the definition of insanity. If I could only explain how ill she looks. I want to hug her, and tell her everything's going to be okay. She was never the best Mom, but seeing her like this makes my heart thump.

But I know I can't do anything. The moment she finds out I'm human, would be the moment I would have to either kill her. Or run.

I can't kill her. My Father? Maybe. But not her. She looks too helpless enough.

She studies my face long enough. It looks like she's gonna cry. She looks so.. confused? Guilty? Innocent? One of those. But her face soon changes when she realises what I am. Her eyebrows scrunch up and her mouth opens as wide as it can reach. She roars, her voice having a contrast of a high and deep pitched sounds, which sends shivers down my spine. I take a step back and firmly place my hand on the door. I bite my lip to prevent it from quivering. I still haven't moved my gaze, I still keep that eye contact there.

She doesn't move though. She just stands there, screaming at me. It's insane. It's like her soul's being skinned off her. It's torturous to even see her like that. I decide that I've seen and heard enough, so I close the door respectfully and leave her there. I turn the key, locking her in. Not like that would stop her, but y' know.

I turn on the balls of my feet and walk towards the kitchen. Already, I can hear her scrapping her way through that door. I grab a knife, shove it into the back of my jeans and head out the back door. I knew Dad kept an axe outside, because on some days he would use to chop up wood, as we couldn't always afford heating. So I take that and leave the residence without another word.

* * *

I plan my journey towards the Broflovski's and it all started out okay. I've been walking for about 15 minutes, which would be considered longer than usual, but come on. I live in the fucking ghetto part of town, and it's not like I'm walking in a straight fucking line anyways.

So I'm about 5 minutes away, when I hear muffling voices coming from this small alley way. I push my back against the wall and move my head towards where the sound is coming from. It sounds like a group of people. I don't know who's there or how many there are, but they're definitely people. They're sort of whispering, so I can't quite hear what they're saying. I'm not gonna take any chances though. I hold the axe firmly in both my hands and raise it. If I'm gonna be anything, I'm gonna become a threat. There's only one of me and God knows how many of them.

As the first figure comes out and walks straight past me, I lift the thing over my head and make an angry 'Argh!' sound. I was just about to jump onto it when I realise who it is.

It spins round as soon as it hears my outburst and blinks in surprise.  
''What the fu- McCormick?''

I drop my arm instantly and hold the same expression.  
''..Craig?''

He keeps his mouth shut and gives me a look of 'what the fuck are you doing?'. I don't even notice the other people behind me, until one of them calls out my name.

''Kenny? Is that you?!''

I turn to see four very familiar faces. The ones I had the delight of seeing were: Clyde Donovan, Token Black, Wendy Testerburger and I think the other guy's name was Thomas or something. It would be nicer to have been met with some of my closer friends , like Stan, Kyle or even Cartman, but y' know. Anyone is good, I suppose.

''Holy shit!'' I exclaim, ''Am I glad to see you.''

Craig grunts, while the others just nodded, not knowing what to say.

''So, what y'guys doing?''

''Are you fucking serious?'' I hear Clyde utter. Wow, he's touchy.

''No, I mean like, where y' heading?''

''I met these guys at Token's. Right now we're going to my Grandfather's workshop.''

I scoff at Wendy's comment. ''That sounds like a total genius plan.'' I mention sarcastically. And what the hell was she doing at Token's?

''And where exactly are you planning on going then, huh?'' She replies in that bitchy tone of hers.

''Well I was gonna go save Kyle Broflovski's bro, Ike. Yeah, he's stuck in an attic and I gotta' go find him.''

''An attic?''

''Yup.'' I pause as an idea strikes. ''Hey, you might be able to help me actually!''

As soon as finish speaking, Craig chokes out his delight of being asked for help, ''Yeaah, no.''

'What, why not?' I ask.

'Time wasting.'

''But it's morning.''

''I don't care.''

I frown and turn towards the others.  
''Look, he's all alone and doesn't know how to fend for himself. He'll die otherwise.''  
I try and put on my most sympathetic face, but I can tell Tucker isn't having it.

''Then why the fuck do you need us?'

''Because dumbass, if they've got those things wondering around in the house, I won't be able to take them all on.''

''Doesn't normally stop you.'' He mutters.

''Yeah but-'' I pause. ''Hey, what's that suppose to mean?!''

Wendy cuts in before anything else is said, ''He's Kyle's brother right? Stan should be with Kyle right now and we're supposed to be meeting them at my Grandfather's workshop. It's a safe and secure place, so Kyle will be thrilled if we reunite him with his brother.' 'Her eyes skim towards the floor, ''I know I would.''

I shake my hands towards Wendy and exclaim, ''Exactly!''

''I suppose it's not such a bad idea,' Token comments, ''Besides, Ike's a good kid. If it was someone like Cartman, then I would have told you to go fuck yourself.''

''Hey-'' I look over at Thomas who looks like shit. Probably because his hair's a mess and he's got speckles of blood on his shirt, along with everyone else, ''Perhaps if we go now in broad-FUCKING-daylight, it would be easier, right?''

''Exactly.'' I say again, turning towards Craig.

''This. is. bullshit.''

''Don't be gay, dude.'

''Yeah man, don't be an asshole.'' Token says, backing me up.

''Don't be an asshole?' He repeats, 'Fuck you, Token. I'm leaving.''  
Craig begins to turn around and leave but I leap in front of him, trying my best to not get him to leave. Craig and Token are probably the strongest of us all, so I'm not gonna throw that away in a situation like this.

''What the fuck are you doing.'' He states.

''Come on, Craig. We kinda need you. And besides, it's not like you have anything better to do.''

''I could be walking away right now and getting on with my life.''

I raise and eyebrow, ''Dude, it's the end of the world.''

''Right. And if I'm gonna die soon, I'd rather spend it by myself, rather than waste time with you fucking retards.''

I shrug. ''Alright, fair point.''

He continues to shove past me and carry on walking. So I guess that plan didn't exactly work. I turn around back to my new group and sigh. The strength in these guys isn't particularly bad, but at least Tucker would know what he's doing. Probably. I decide to give up on him and was just about to go through the plan of getting into the Broflovski household, but Clyde calls his friend's name out, for a last hope of getting the stoic bastard to stay.

''Hey, Craig, wait!''

''What, Clyde.'' He replies, but doesn't stop moving.

''Just hear my out, man!'

Tucker fails to respond and continues his journey.

''Look, you're my best friend. What happened back at the house wasn't Token's fault. And if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have made it out alive.'' I quirk an eyebrow at the thought, and feel myself to get rather curious at the untold event that probably took place before I found them.  
''Seriously, you've got some sort of survival skill, which is pretty good, considering the situation we're in. I don't particularly wanna go with Kenny's plan, but I could never leave a kid alone to die, man. That's fucking heartbreaking. If it was my Dad, I know you wouldn't have second thoughts about going in to save him, right?''

''Yeah, and Craig?'' Token finishes, ''I know you probably hate me right now and I totally understand that, but there was nothing I could do. And I wish you could see it from my point of view, but If you give it time, perhaps you could.''

Fuck me, this is getting confusing. And for a moment I thought Craig was gonna flip him off, but he doesn't. He pauses in his tracks and turns around, holding nothing but a deepened frown on his face.

''If you come with us now, you can leave soon after.'' I say, ''I'm only doing this for Ike's sake. Besides, would you really leave a twelve year old kid alone to die? In the cold and wet? No food to eat and no-one to talk to. Must be frightening. Even more so knowing that he hasn't got no future. Dam, I can't even begin to imagine what it's like..'' I trail off, trying to sound convincing.

Thankfully, someone's words manage to change his mind, because he's soon storming back in a huff. As he approaches, he flips his middle finger towards me, but he has his focus on Clyde. Thomas seems to be quiet, which is unusual, probably because he doesn't wanna get involved and Wendy looks too interested in getting a signal on her phone. I suspect she's trying to get in contact with anyone she has listed on her phone.

''I'm only going buy what you've said and no-one else's.'' He glances at Token, giving him a glare. ''Token? Fuck what you have to say, I could kill you right now if I wanted to.'' To be fair, nothing's really stopping him, I think to myself. ''I'll stick by for you Clyde, but only because you're my friend. And despite what everyone has experienced, you're the most fucked up. And you being a cry baby and all doesn't really cut that.''

''Thanks, bro. Apart from the last bit, that means a lot. I've never known you to be _that_ considerate before.''

''Whatever.''

I finish biting on one of my nails and clap my hands together.  
''Right, so unless you and Token need some time to kiss and make up, let's get a move on, shall we?''

''I agree with Kenny'' Wendy inputs. ''It looks like we may be having some visitors any time soon.'' I look in the direction she's looking and notice a group of those walker things, stumbling towards us.

I nod and take them through a not very thought out plan.

* * *

I slowly and cautiously twist the kitchen door knob, allowing myself in. I wave a hand for Wendy to follow and she scurries over, with a hockey stick tightly in her grasp.

Instead of us all diving in, I tell Thomas, Token and Clyde to keep an outside lookout.

With much to his distaste, Craig soon joins us and the three of us enter the house as quietly as we can. Well, as quietly as Wendy and I can, Craig just sorta trots behind us, not considering the noise he's making.

I'm the first to enter the living room and all I can see is blood. Blood everywhere. I skim my eyes around the room, but there's no sign of anyone or anything.

Wendy points out that there's a blood trail, that looks like something has been dragged out of here. I don't think much of it, but I'm still cautious of my ware bouts.

I keep the axe firmly in my grip as I enter the hallway. Upstairs is the only way to go and seeing as we need to get up there anyways, I climb them. I don't feel either, Wendy or Craig's presence behind me, but I just continue to walk. I find the attic door instantly and waste no time in opening the damn thing.

I call out a whisper to Ike, but he doesn't respond, so I call out again.  
''Ike, dude, it's Kenny!''

He still doesn't fucking respond, so I jump up to pull the wooden ladder down. It flies to the floor, making a loud enough 'thud' sound.

''Fuck.'' I mumble. I look up into the dark room, but see no form of person. I call out again, this time a little louder. Probably louder, than I anticipated.

''Yo, Ike! Get your ass down here!''

Before I could check if he's up there myself, before I could even _think_ about whether he was actually up there or not, I feel a tight hand grip my shoulder. My instincts force me to leap forward and turn around to see one of those fucking zombies stumble towards me. I glanced up and down it's body and notice that half it's foot was missing, hence why it was limping. I take no hesitation in bashing it's face in with the sharp tree chopper that I have been carrying all morning. It only took three hits until I knew it was a goner.

I wipe my forehead with my arm and spit down on the corpse. I hear the two scampering upstairs in a second and to my dismay, they weren't actually surprised by my awesome defensive skills.

''Anyone gonna' thank me then?'' I hold both my hands out suggestively, but Wendy just shrugs.

''Thank you for what?'' Craig deadpans.

My eyes droop and I bend down to pull the axe out of the wound. It takes a couple tugs, before I get a hold of it again. I study the bloody blade and decide to wipe it clean, using my sleeve.

''It probably would have been safer, if you actually checked the rooms first, before diving in for the rescue.'' Wendy mentions, and I nod a reply. Atleast I killed the fuckin' thing.

She checks the bathroom, while Craig and I check the other three bedrooms.

''Nope, nothin' in here.'' I state.

'Nothing in here, either.' Craig murmurs.

We both meet in the hall and look directly at the other bedroom door. We're both thinking the exactly the same thing when we see a shadow sway around from underneath the wood. There is also a noise, too. It isn't a hard sound, it's more of a clinking sound.

We both give each other the obvious, 'there's definitely something in there' look.

I give his shoulder a push, but he flinches my arm away, giving me a glare.

I shrug in defence, ''Hey, I got rid of one of them. Now it's your turn.''

''Fuck off is it my turn.''

I smirk, ''Is Tucker scared?''

''Fuck off,'' He repeats, 'I'm not in the mood.''

''Aw, Craig, I thought you were a big boy now.'' I mock.

He rolls his eyes, but I push my lips into a pout. ''Does Craigy need his Mommy to hold his hand?'' I attempt to hold his hand, by pushing my palm onto his. I start to wonder forward, and that's when he snaps his hand away from mine, causing me to chuckle. In return, he flips me the bird.  
He ends up taking baby steps forward, claiming that he doesn't like 'jump scares'. I grinned at that.

I hover behind him, looking over his shoulder as he places three fingers on the door knob. He twists it round and opens it ridiculously slow. He lets go of the door and lets it open by itself, in a very snail pace. After it's wide open, we both pop our heads round the corner of the frame. What seems to be making all the fuss is the wind, causing the curtains on the window to collide with the radiator. We both sigh in relief, and I'm glad that nothing is in here either, because I'm no good with jump scares either.

''See?'' I nudge Craig with my elbow. ''Wasn't so bad now, was it?''

Before he can reply, a loud scream gets our ears attention, causing our heads to snap in the direction from the bathroom. Craig and I share yet another look, before swiftly running towards the direction Wendy's voice was coming from.

I barge into the room to see her wrestling with one of those things in the bath. It would have looked pretty hot, if the inhumane female wasn't so ugly. And no, I'm not talking about Wendy before you ask.

Craig comes up behind me and stops in his tracks. We both look down at the scene for a very few short moments, until I decide to take action. I pull my arms over my head and drop the axe into the back of it's neck. I cringe at the sight, but manage to bring my arms back up and go for another swing. It's still alive (if that's what you wanna call it), so I go for another hit. But before I could do so, Wendy pushes herself up from the tub and tells me to stop.

''I can handle it from here.''

I scoff as she picks up her hockey stick that obviously fell when she was attacked and whacks it in near enough the same spot I hit. She continues to hit it, until the head actually snaps off and drops hardly onto the tiled floor. I jumped backwards as it rolls towards my feet. My eyes grow wide as I frown down at the thing, my mouth dropped open.

Wendy wipes the blood off her face with her palms, dropping the stick as she did so. I glance over at Craig, who's just stood there, staring down with a light frown at the headless corpse.

''Sick, what the fuck?! Oh, man, what the hell just happened?!'' I exclaim.

I look over at her, but she seems distressed with her eyes covered by her hands. I think she's rubbing them, but she's also groaning, probably because of what she just did.

I stare down back at the head and can't help but smirk at the sight.

''That was actually pretty hardcore.'' I hear Craig mumble.

''Wendy, you okay?'' I ask.

''Yeah, I'm okay. I just got it in my eye.''

I nod my head, understandingly and wait for her to sort herself out.

..

Hang on a minute. Did she just say she got it in her eye?

The realisation hits me and I shoot a look at Craig. He doesn't catch me looking at him, so I nudge him with my elbow. He turns his head slightly, replying with an annoyed ''What?''

I point to my eye and then point to the rotting body on the floor. He doesn't get it at first, but when I mouth the words 'in-fect-ion' he soon picks up the hint.

''Fuck.''

''What do we do?'' I whisper.

He shrugs, as if he doesn't give a damn.

I hesitate but speak up as Wendy removes her hands away and blinks frantically for a couple of moments.

''So uhm, Wendy. You uh, feel any different?''

''No, I feel better actually. That felt good, knocking that bitch senseless.''

Nodding again, I think about just coming out with it. I don't even know how long it takes for them to change, that's if she _does_ end up changing into one of them.

''Kay, well the thing is.. If it's blood has entered your system, then you could potentially be infected.''

She looks at me in horror.  
''What?! No, I got it out. It was only a little bit, I swear!''

''Yeah, but. Like, how are we suppose to make sure?'' I ask.

''Well because- because otherwise I would have turned by now!''

My eyes narrow. ''Hm, I'm not so sure, Wendy.''

I'm just messing with her. There's no way I would actually kill her while she's still alive. Apart from anything, Stan would probably kill me, even though he's not with her anymore.

''Alright, well give me five minutes. It went into my eye, which means it's near the brain, so it would only take a couple of minutes to process. If I don't turn, then I'm clean, right?''

''I don't really care, but whatever.'' I hear Craig utter.

''That sounds fair. But I'm telling ya, if y' make one inhumane movement, I'm gonna take y' down in a flash.''

''I swear to God, if you even dare attempt to kill me, I'll rip your balls off.''

I grin at her comment, folding my arms and leaning back on the wall.

Seconds later, Clyde comes sprinting through the door, his weapon in his hand (a curved blade, with a wooden handle).

''What is it, I heard screaming? What the-''  
Neither of us say anything. He looks down at the mess on the floor and jumps back in shock.  
''Holy shit, that's fucking disgusting!''

I snicker. ''Now come on, that's not very nice. It's only Craig.''

''Fuck you.''

Clyde looks between the three of us, confused, so I tell him a not very detailed story of what happened.

''.. And now, we're just waiting to see if Wendy is gonna turn or not.''

''Oh.'' Is all he says.

Another moment later, Token comes rushing through the door. The bathroom isn't very big, so every time that door opens, I get crushed by it.

''What's going on, have you got Ike yet?''

''No, not yet.'' Wendy replies.

''Fuck. Guys, we need to go_. Now.''_

''What, why?'' She asks.

''We got trouble heading this way.''

Shit, Wendy must have set them off. I push myself off the wall and head towards the hallway. As I exit, I vaguely hear Tucker getting angry.

''Hang on a minute, where the fuck is Tom?''

''He said he was fine, he said he was gonna-''

I start to climb the wooden steps and I hear Craig cut Token off.

''And you just thought to fucking leave him? Are you fucking serious?!''

''Yes, wait, no! He said he was going to-''

''I don't fucking care what he said, you don't leave someone alone like that. What are you retarded?''

''Dude, that's unfair, you're not even listening to what I'm saying!''

''I don't need to fucking listen to your bullshit.''

I reach the top of the ladder and by now I can hear someone (probably Craig) rushing down the stairs.

''Ike?''  
It's still pretty dark, but it's not pitch enough for me to not see where I'm going. I duck under the wooden panels that hold the roof together and continue heading to the end of the attic.  
''Ike?!' I yell.

That must have woken him up or something, because I hear a rustling sound coming from the left of me.

''Kenny? Is that you?!''

I stride towards where I can finally see him and crouch down to his level. He seems to have made a nice little camp out, with his sleeping bag rolled out on the floor and a can of half empty beans next to it.

''Yeah, it's me. You okay, buddy?''

''I think so. Is Kyle with you?''

He pushes himself up and so do I, almost hitting my head on the roof.

''No. But I know where he and Stan might be. Come on, we gotta go.''

I place a hand on his shoulder and slightly push him forward. We scurry down the ladder in one piece and head down the flight of stairs, into the kitchen and into the garden, where I guessed everyone was, which they were. Well, where Wendy and Clyde were.

''Where the fuck did Craig go?''

And as I say that, I see some sort of argument scene going on between Thomas, Craig and Token. The four of us stare at them, not intending to get involved.

''You see?! I told you he was fine!'' Token yells, throwing one of his hands towards Thomas.

''You know what, Token? I've always hated you. You're always the fucking rich kid that goes around acting like he's bigger than everyone else.''

''Oh, so this is about me now is it?''

''Seeing as you killed my best fucking friend!''

''I didn't kill him!''

''He was your friend too, remember that, asshole.''

I figure that this all has something to do with Tweek, but there's no way I'm gonna ask what happened. Not yet, anyways. I would just get six different stories flying at me.

I turn my gaze towards the fence, on the left side of the garden. That's where we came from. There's no getting out that way, seeing as I can see waving hands, begging to grab anything those walker things can get a hold of. I look to the other side, to see it looking pretty clear. As clear as I can see it anyway.

I motion my hands for Wendy, Clyde and Ike to follow and they do. Clyde gives me a boost up and I manage to steadily sit myself on the edge of the fence. I holler out for the bickering three, but hardly any of them acknowledge me.

''Hey! Hey, retards! Y'know, if you could keep y' traps shut and carry this on later, that would be great.'' I pull my thumb up and grin sarcastically, but they aren't even listening to me, the bastards.  
I then mumble to myself, ''Are they seriously not gonna listen.''

I glance back over at the other fence and notice that it's about to fall over.

''If they aren't gonna listen, we can just say 'I told you so' when they die, right?'' I ask the other three, but they are also too interested in what's going on over the other side.

''Craaaig, Tokeeen, Thomaaas.'' Clyde says in a boring tone.

I lift my leg over the other side of the fence and get ready to jump off. Wendy seems to have a bright idea in using her fingers to create an annoyingly loud wolf whistle. It seems to work and they all snap their attentions to us. She points to the falling fence and the three look across. As she was doing this, Clyde gave Ike a boost up and I grabbed him by the arms.

''Dude, I'm perfectly capable of climbing a fence.'' He whispers to me. I just laugh, but I stop as soon the outburst of the fence falls into pieces and a hoard of about ten zombies come charging through. I would laugh, but it probably wasn't an appropriate time.

Ike chucks himself over the edge and I pull Wendy up by her wrists. I failed to refuse the urge to get a good look at her breasts at this point. She leaps over the other side and I offer my hand out to Clyde, but he seems pretty okay getting up himself. I look over to the three that are now running our way and grab the closest to me. Thomas jumps over and as I look back down I can see that Craig is pissed. It's actually quite amusing. He doesn't seem to want my help though, and he uses all of his upper body strength to lift himself over. I hop off the fence as soon as Token flies himself over and we all start scurry away from the Broflovski's residence.

Once we're far enough, we all slow down to catch our breaths. We don't stop, but our paces slow down to walking. I place my hands on my hips and catch my breath back to normal. Some of the others do the same and we begin to walk away in silence.

* * *

''How far are we, Wendy?'' I hear Clyde call out to Wendy, who was taking the lead.

''Not far now. It's on the outskirts of South Park.''

We all acknowledge her comment and I flip out my phone. No signal, fucking great.

I'm trotting behind the group, keeping my distance to make sure nothing jumps out or anything. I dunno, you see it in the movies, right? The one guy that keeps a lookout behind, because something always comes out from behind them or something.

That's when I notice a bandage on Tucker's arm. I smirk and stroll up from behind him. I poke it and he flinches instantly.

''What the fuck did you do that for?''

''What happened to your arm?''

He tells me to go away, but I stay where I am.

''What happened to your arm, Craig?'' I ask again, annoyingly.

''I said go away.''

''Was fisting yourself too much for you this time?'' I deadpan.

''Fuck off, McCormick, you're pissing me off.''

''I know, I can tell.''

He scoffs and I shove one of my hands into the front of my jeans pocket. He seems agitated that I'm walking next to him, but he doesn't move away. He's just frowning and if I mention anything else, I know I'll probably get socked, so instead of trying to annoy him again, I drop it.

I wonder over to Ike, which is when I realise that he has nothing to defend himself with if it comes to it. I remember the knife I picked up from my house earlier and I reach behind to grab it. I hold it in front of Ike and he just stares at it. He eventually gets the hint and takes it from my hands. I pat him on the head and I think he rolls his eyes.

I believe that Ike is friends with Karen and seeing as they are almost the same age, I can't help but treat him as some sort of brother.

We all continue to walk down the pathway in silence. The rest of the journey there is quite uneventful, but that's when we reach Wendy's Grandfather's workshop.

* * *

**Reason for the long update: I recently moved house and there's no internet, so i'll be able to update when i'm at my dads c: (oh the joys of parents splitting up :))))**

**I quickly changed to age of Karen in the previous chapter, because I do want to keep it all familiar with South Park. So instead of making her younger than Ike, she's now the same age, yo**

**sorry for the confusion c:**

**oh and by the way, if you want a chapter on a specific person, just ask me who you want and I may consider it. If it comes to it, I might have several different points of views in one chapter**


	6. Tip 6: Don't frown upon hope

**So I found out that Red doesn't really have a surname, so I'm using Turner. Some fics I've read also use Turner whenever she turns up, so that's what imma use**

**-literally begging for the next episode of TWD game to come out eughhh**

**I couldn't believe the messages I got from this, I really wasn't expecting anyone to like this sorta thing, so thank you!**

**Tip 6: Don't frown upon hope, even in a time like this.**

* * *

**Kyle's POV**

When we arrived to the place Wendy told us to go, there were people already in there. How they got in, I didn't know, but for some reason, they did. I didn't know either of these people, apart from one, which I knew from elementary and my calculus class. Red Turner. Stan and I greeted her and she returned with a saddened smile, but apart from that, we didn't speak at all. There was a woman and two other middle aged men. One of them was called Charlie. He seemed pretty cool, apart from the fact that his red checkered shirt had stains of blood on it. Not that it was really that noticeable. He had dirty blond hair and had a line of stubble going across his jaw line. We found out that he was aged thirty eight.

They ushered us over, in-fact and for the past couple days, that was where we had been staying. The place was alright. A bit cold, but nothing unbearable. When Stan mentioned this place being a 'workshop' it wasn't at all what I expected. I assumed the place would be dirty and filled with power tools, but it was actually pretty decent. It had a fair amount of space and it all smelt of fresh wood. There was an office as well, which was also pretty decent, if you minus the amount of paperwork everywhere.

On the first night in, none of us said a word to each other. Meaning, Stan and I. Randy interacted with the others, but we sat and slept in the corner of the office and ate nothing that was offered us. I was still in shock at what happened back at the house and I think Stan was just disappointed in himself for not doing anything more than he did. And also, because his Mom had died earlier that night as well.

I knew it wasn't his fault, but every time I looked back, all I could see was him digging that thing into my Father's head. I wanted to cry, I really did, but I didn't have the energy to. I watched my whole family die and I still didn't even know if Ike was alive.

Before I finally fell asleep, which I think was around 5am, the last I remembered, was seeing Randy curl up next to us. I couldn't see his face, but I could see his back bouncing up and down. I think he was crying. That was really sad for me to watch.

The following morning wasn't so bad. Stan and I had nothing to do but wait for Wendy, so we decided to be nosey and look through some of the paperwork. I came across something of Randy's and we found out that he remembered getting Sharon's bike repaired here. That story was supposedly interesting.

When Sunday came, it was beginning to get tiring. We weren't even doing anything, but everything just seemed to go so slow. There were seven of us in total, so any of the food that was stored in the mini fridge had all gone. I was just hoping that wherever Wendy was, she would hurry up soon, because I didn't know how long I would last until I needed to get out. Randy persuaded me that everything would be okay, so I calmed down a bit. The only thing I was itching about, was the fact that it hadn't even been a week yet and it was already starting to get unbearable for me. So the only thing on my mind was how the fuck was I gonna survive this.

The day after that, Randy got the computer working. It was a pretty old one, but at least the town still had electricity. For now. It even had easy internet access, so one by one, the group checked their emails. Some even tried to use social networking sites to get in contact with their families, which was when I pointed out to Stan that maybe we should write something out there, to see who was still alive.

''I guess that's a good idea. I'll update a public post.'' He stated. And that's what he did.

_Stanley Randall Marsh  
If anyone is still alive or whatever, then come to Len's Workshop. It's on the edge of town, on the left path of Stoker Street. We've got alive people here._

"Kay, I've posted it. Now what."

I shrugged and stepped away from the desk. He logged out of his account and shut down the browser. I watched briefly as he leant back into the seat and stared at the blank screen.

"I wonder if Kenny is still alive." I muttered.

"Mm." He replied. "Cartman, too."

I scoffed at the mention of our asshole of a friend. "I hope that bastard dies brutally. It wont take no skin off my back if I never see him again."

He nodded in agreement and swirled round in his chair, so that he was facing me. I began to chew on one of my nails and shifted my gaze towards the door that lead to the other room. It sounded like there was some sort of confrontation going on outside and I was beginning to get curious.

I heard a frustrated sigh come from Stan and he soon got up and wondered towards the end of the room. He glanced through the window of the door and I could practically feel him roll his eyes. He looked back at me and by the looks of things, it sounded like his Dad was the centre of attention once again and had probably got into an argument with one of the older folks or something.

"Come on. Dad looks like he could need some backup."

I nodded and followed him out the door.

"He didn't mean to fucking hit you, okay? He has tourettes and considering the fucking town has gone retarded, his first instinct is to retaliate to anything that fucking startles him. Cut him a fucking break, old man."

I looked ahead to see what looked like Craig Tucker, shoving past the 'old' man that greeted us when we first met. I think he was Red's step-Father. I didn't take much notice of his name.

"Look, kid, we just saved your asses from those things outside and that's what we get? Not even a thanks?"

I watched as Craig carelessly flipped Randy off. I heard as Stan scowled underneath his breath and made his way towards the other raven. Craig was such an asshole.

"What the fuck, dude? Don't flip off my Dad."  
And with that, Craig flipped him off and continued to barge past him. I eyed the way he made his way, to what looked like, the bathroom.

"Hey, asshole-"  
Randy stopped Stan from going after him by placing a hand on his shoulder.  
"Leave it, son. We've all had a bad time."

Craig and Stan never got along. It wasn't that they hated each other, they just had two completely different personalities. Stan was the athletic type, who was social, loved sports and was quite sensitive, especially when it came to girls. Craig, on the other hand, was the type of guy that got annoyed easily, was independent and didn't care about other people's feelings. And obviously, they both hated those qualities of each other. Instead of arguing and fighting like Cartman and I did, they just ignored each other, which was why our groups never interacted with each other. Apart from Kenny. Kenny and Clyde hung out now and again.

"SHIT, I seriously didn't mean to -FUCKING- hurt anyone!"

"Don't worry about it. It's not like you've broken it or anything." I heard Red's step-Dad say. He was rubbing his arm. Any idiot could have guessed what had happened.

I looked ahead to see who came in with Craig. Surprisingly I saw some familiar heads. I gasped when I recognised a certain blond observing the scene, amusingly.

I jumped forwards and shook Stan's arm.  
"Dude, Kenny?!" I called out, catching his and Stan's attention instantly.

"Holy shit!" His face lit up as he looked between the two of us. He leaped forwards and threw his arms over each of our shoulders.  
"Fuck, I haven't seen you guys in ages!"

"It's only been like three days, Ken." I muttered.

"Well yeah, but in zombie apocalypse time that's like, 3 months."

We both chuckled as he pulled away from us. I turned my attention towards unfortunately, a familiar high pitched voice.  
"Stan?!"

His stupid face smiled in amazement as he saw his ex, yes, EX-girlfriend skip towards him in a swift motion. I rolled my eyes as the two exchanged a 'friendly' hug. I turned towards Kenny, who was still grinning like hell.

"You okay?" I asked.

"I have something for you."

I quirked an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Weeeell, in order for me to give it to you, you have to give me something in return." He winked and my eyes narrowed.

"I'm not sucking your dick."

His face dropped into a pout and I rolled my eyes once again.  
"Yeah, but what if I told you that-"

He was interrupted by the sound of a childish like voice, coming from behind me.  
"Kyle?"

My whole body froze at the sound of my name. My eyes widened as I realised who's voice that was. Kenny crossed his arms and his grin was soon plastered back onto his face. My mouth dropped open slightly and I slowly twisted my head round to see my brother looking up at me.

My hopes suddenly lifted as I saw the face of my brother standing in front of me. I gasped and immediately embraced him into a hug. It hadn't exactly been too long since I had seen him, but I didn't think he was alive. Of course, I had hope for him not to be dead, but there was something at the back of my mind that knew he wasn't going to be alive. But he was and that made me extremely relieved.

I pulled back after a couple of moments and asked how he was.  
"I'm okay. Kenny and those other guys came and picked me up."

"Where the fuck were you and why didn't you come when Stan went looking for you?!"

He brought his ring finger and to his mouth and began nibbling on the skin around the nail.  
"I hid in the attic, because it seemed like a pretty safe place to hide from all the noise. And I didn't come down, because I was feeling insecure about the whole ordeal, so I hid, to protect me from my mental health."

So basically, he was scared.

"As long as you're okay, Ike. God, I can't believe you're even here."

"You should thank your friend." He nodded towards Kenny, who was still stood behind me, obviously trying to look like he wasn't paying attention. I stood back up and smiled appreciatively at my blond friend.

"Thanks, man. It means a lot."

He waved it off as if it was nothing, but I insisted for it to be a huge deal to me.  
"No really, Ken. It means so much to me that you went out of your way to help Ike."

He shrugged. "It really wasn't a big deal. Jus' call me your bestest ever bro."

I chuckled and looked over at Stan. He had his hand behind his neck and was still talking to Wendy. He was such a retard at times, it was hilarious. He was okay when it came to talking to girls, but he was also pretty awkward. The stupid gestures he would make, like pushing his hair back or reaching behind his neck or across his shoulder. I didn't know why he did it to be honest, but I didn't think he ever realised that he was doing it. That's what made it funny.

My thoughts got interrupted when I heard Kenny mention something about Red.  
"Dude." He slapped my arm, motioning me to look in the same direction as him.  
"You didn't tell me Red Turner was here."

I glanced at him, then back at Red.  
"So."

"So?! Kyle, she's got like the hottest rack ever. Even hotter than Bebe's. Then again," He bit his lip, eyeing Red up and down, like a hungry fucking dog. "Bebe's boobs are perfectly shaped." He gestured with his hands.

I remained silent, knowing that my younger brother is listening to every word this boob obsessed guy is saying. He nudges me with his elbow, leaning in closer.  
"I heard that apparently, Red has to wear specific bras to help her off sidedness. Straight up, like one is a D, the other is like a C.3."

I frowned in confusion.  
"You can get a C.3?"

"Totally."

"But that means one of her tit's is bigger than the other."

"Well, duh. That's pretty much every girl. Apart from Bebe and majority of those chicks I showed you in that playboy magazine last week."

"What the fuck, that's weird."

He gave me a look like he had just been offended.  
"Dude, how could you disrespect boobs like that?! Boobs are God's gift to earth. Anyway, quirky tits are hot tits."

I grunted. "Any sort of tits make you happy, Kenny."

He nodded in agreement. "Apart from Cartman's."

I sniggered, "Apart from Cartman's."

"Speaking of the beach whale, where is he anyways?" He asked.

"Don't know, don't care."

"Fair enough. He probably got washed up on the beach again, anyways."

* * *

Night was just arriving and the space Stan, Randy and I had the night before, soon filled up pretty quickly. There was no food for anyone, seeing as we weren't exactly stocked up in the first place and the number of captives had now increased by a lot.

I sat on the floor between Ike and Stan and opposite was Kenny, Wendy, Red and Token. We made quiet conversation, but we didn't speak about anything in particular. On the other side of the room was Randy and Charlie.

I hadn't heard from Craig since earlier this afternoon, but I didn't particularly care. He had his own problems. I spoke to Thomas earlier. He came and sat down with us for a bit, before heading towards the bathroom with Clyde to see how their friend was doing. He hadn't come out of that room since he went in there, so the pair of them sat down either side of the frame and patiently waited for him to come out. Eventually, after several hours, he brought the courage to come out and ever since then, the three of them had been sat near that area. I hadn't heard a sound come out from them since, not even Thomas.

"Have you heard anything from Heidi, Bebe or any of the others?" Wendy asked, more to Red than anyone else.

"No clue. The only people I've seen my age are you lot, surprisingly."

"The younger generation are more wary of today's technology, so that's why there's probably more of us alive than the oldies." Token mentioned.

We all fell silent, seeing as none of us had anything else to say to each other.

* * *

The last time I checked, the time was half eleven, so the majority of us had already fallen asleep by now. Ike was sound asleep, with his head leaning against my shoulder. Stan was still awake, but he was on the other side of the room, talking to his Dad. The only other people in the room that were awake now were, me, Token and of what I could see, Craig as well.

I couldn't help but wonder why Token was sitting with us, rather than his friends. I wasn't gonna ask just yet, because it was none of my business, but I was pretty curious. The more I thought about it, the more sleepier I got, so I began drifting off into a sleep. Dropping my head on top of Ike's, it only took me a couple of moments until I finally faded away.

* * *

..

"Kyle, dude. Kyle. Hey, wake-up!"  
I blinked my eyes open to see Stan crouching in front of me, with his hands on my shoulders. I stared blankly at him, not remembering where I was for a moment.

"You better get yourself together, some of us are gonna leave soon."

"Leave?" I repeated, lifting up my arm to take note of the time. 6am. I didn't realise how long I fell asleep for, I swore it had only been a couple of minutes.

"Yeah, me and Dad were talking and we decided that the best thing to do was to drive as far away as possible. Like, out of Colorado."

"Out of Colorado? Why?"

"If there's any secure place to go, it's not here. I have an uncle that lives in the outskirts of Kansas. He's a manager of an indoor shooting range."

"That's like six hours away! How do we know it's even gonna _be_ secure?"

"Because there's an acre of land outback that's fenced. Okay, so it's not like it's prison guarded, but it's better than a place like this, right? I mean, this place may be quiet now, but you just wait until this place starts heaving with zombies, Kyle."

I bit my lip, thoughtfully. I suppose it wasn't the worst idea, but it would have taken an arm and a leg to get there. And how would we know that the place wouldn't already be bombarded by the time we got there?

"Why don't we just go to the federal government, or the American security unit or something? That would be more smart."

He scoffed and stood up. "You obviously haven't seen the news."

I quirked an eyebrow and got up as well, gently pushing Ike's head to the side, so he wouldn't fall down. I followed Stan into the workshop to find where most of the group were. I was kind of angry that Stan didn't wake me up earlier, so I could have joined in with the debate.

"Nice hair, Kyle."

"Shutup, Kenny." I chuckled.

"Right, so are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Randy assured to Red, her step-Father, and Mary, the middle aged lady who was here when we first got here. She had no relation to Red, I found out.

"We'll be fine. Red and I are gonna help Mary find her way to North Carolina. It's a bit of a journey, but both of our families live there." He shrugged and put his arm around his red-headed daughter. "There's gotta be something there, right?"

Randy nodded understandingly and shook the guys hand.  
"Good luck out there. I hope it's not too shabby." He said, before turning to the rest of us. Randy was the eldest of us all now. Charlie was still here, though. I took it that he decided to stay with us, seeing as he was divorced and had no other family to go find.

"So, what's the plan, Mr Marsh?" Wendy asked and by this time, Clyde and Craig decided to join us, coming from the other room.

"It looks like you've just had sex." Kenny muttered to the raven, but he ignored him. You gotta give it to him, Craig looked a mess. I doubted whether he even got any sleep last night. But I didn't care. I didn't like Craig.

"Well." Randy started, "Considering there's.. one, two, three, four.. Christ, eleven of us, getting into one car isn't exactly gonna' work."

"But we didn't come by car." I stated.

"No, but they came in one," He threw his thumb behind him. "And Mary came in another. It's dented, but she's kindly said to us that we can have it."

I remembered that those were the only vehicles that were actually outside. Seeing as this place isn't a well used area, there were no cars along side when we got here. There must have been at least one further back down, surely.

"In that case, how about some of us use that car outside," Wendy retorts. "And the rest of us travel by foot until we can find two other decent cars to break into?"

"You mean, split up?" Clyde remarked.

"Yeah, can't be that bad. There are some apartments five minutes away from here, we saw vehicles parked along side, we'll just take them from there." Randy replied.

"Alright, sounds pretty easy. Who's going with who then?" I heard Charlie ask.

I felt Ike stand beside me, yawning. He asked me what was going on, so I briefly told him the plan, while the rest of them discussed the situation.

"I don't really care where I go, I'll go with whatever." Token stated.

"Good, because you're staying as far away from me as possible." Craig informed, causing Token to frown. I could tell it took him everything to hold back his thoughts. Obviously they had an argument, which was why they weren't sitting together earlier.

"Okay.." Stan said slowly, brushing off the slight tension, "Well first off, does anyone even know how to get to Kansas for a start?"

Kenny rose his hand slightly. "I do. You took us there for your thirteenth birthday, remember?"

"Oh yeah, wasn't that the time when Cartman shot Kyle in the foot with an air rifle?"

The pair of them laughed amongst themselves at the 'hilarious' memory. It wasn't as funny as I remembered it.

Randy pointed towards the blond. "Right, so if Kenny goes in the car, Charlie, you go with him."

"But I'm the only one that knows how to hotwire." Kenny remarked.

"Um, actually, I'm not that bad, myself." Token commented, "Car mechanics aren't really my thing, but I know one or two about wires."

"Awesome, because I don't know a thing." I heard Randy chuckle.

"Sorted then. I'm going in the car."

"I'll go with you, Craig. Thomas, you coming?" Clyde asked, looking at his friend.

"Sure," His eyes twitched.

"Alright. Charlie is the only one with a gun, so has everyone got something to defend themselves with if it comes to it?" I watched as Randy scanned the room. I looked down at Ike to see him examining a pocket knife he had loosely in his hand.

I had a pair of scissors shoved in the side pocket of my jeans and the manual screwdriver had been kept in my jacket pocket. It wasn't the best, but it was better than nothing. I ditched the mallet I had earlier; It was stained with my Mother's blood. How could I keep that?

I could have switched my small devices with something a little more big, but I wanted to wait until I got myself a gun. Guns are totally more badass.

Randy made his way to the front of the workshop and stood by the door. Red gave her farewell to us and she shared a hug with Wendy.

He opened the door and the three of them pegged it to the three seated truck, that wasn't too far from where we were standing.

Randy made sure that they got in the care without any problems and just as he was closing the door, a loud thud, sounded against it. I grabbed a hold of Ike and shoved him backwards. Randy gave Stan the look of horror. We obviously hadn't checked how unsafe it actually was outside and I feared for the worst. There was no backdoor, so how the fuck were we going to get out?!

I watched as Charlie, Wendy and Token stepped forward, holding their weapons high up in their hands and ready to dawn down on anything that would soon get through that piece of wood.

The door slammed several times against it's frame and I swore for a moment that it was going to dismantle itself.

Stan took a step back and whispered, "Shit, what do we do, Kyle?"

I shook my head, slowly. "I don't-"  
I was cut off by a low shriek coming from the other side of the door. It was followed by a voice, calling out.  
"Goddammit, you assholes, open the fucking door! Don't you realise there's a fucking apocalypse out here? If you guys don't let me in, I'm seriously gonna' rip your balls off, Kahl!"

My eyes narrowed as I recognised who's voice that was.

By now, a foot was wedged between the gap and a hand was placed around the edge of the frame. Randy had stopped resisting as soon as he heard the voice. He peeked his head into the gap between and instantly opened the door.

I only had to see a mess of brunette hair to know who it was. Of course it had to be him. That was it. In a world that had pretty much ended, he was the last person I expected to be seen alive.

I rolled my eyes, folded my arms and leant back on some wooden crates that were stacked next to me.

Just as my luck couldn't get any more fucking worse.


	7. Tip 7: Deal with all kinds of bullshit

**Tip 7: Survival means dealing with different types of bullshit. Remember that.**

**(gay ass titles i know lmfao)**

* * *

**Craig's POV**

So Fatass rolls in, thinking he owns the place and shit and I'm impatiently waiting to go. I'm not the greatest person to talk to in the mornings, especially when I don't get any fucking sleep the night before.

Of course the first person he goes to is Kyle and blames him for everything, because of his religion. An argument took place, which involved Fatass throwing insults, Broflovski getting angry, McCormick laughing and calling him fucking stupid, Marsh defending Broflovski, and then the two practically licking each other's buttholes after. I don't care.

So now the plan changed and for some reason and Ike is coming with us, much to mine and Broflovski's distaste. I think it's because even though McCormick has been to wherever this place is before, Ike knows how to get to the area better, considering he went on some sort of residential trip a couple years back or something. Mr. Marsh informed them that the vehicle is a five seater and Ike's smaller than someone like Marsh or Broflovski, so that's why he has to come.

So after Ike persuades his brother that he would be okay and there was nothing to worry about, the six of us head towards the shitty car that was left for us. If this plan didn't work, then we literally had nothing.

"Shotgun." I hear Clyde say, but I ignore him and head straight for the passenger side. I patiently waited for McCormick to unlock the car and I get in without hesitation.

"Dude, I called shotgun!" I can feel the disappointment in his voice and it amuses me. I would have said something snarky, but it hasn't even reached seven o'fucking clock yet. So nevertheless, I flip him off. I hear him click his tongue and I pull on my belt.

McCormick gets in first and he gives me an over-exaggerated smile. I frown at him as the others proceed to get in.

"Ike, your ass is squishing my hand." I hear Clyde whine.

"Yeah and your hand is discomforting my ass."

"It's Tom, right?"

"Right?"

"I'm Charlie. I know you've got this disease and shit, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't have to take up all the room."

"It's not a disease. Well, not technically." Ike corrects.

"Well whatever it is, that doesn't mean you get the advantage of spreading your legs and having the most room, okay, buddy?"

"Well where else am I suppose to put them?!" I hear Tom exclaim.

"Over there."

"No, don't put them over here, Ike and I have to have room as well!"

"So? I'm not comfortable."

McCormick scoffs. "Well sor-rey, princess," He retorts in an annoying sassy tone. "But y' not exactly living in royalty at the moment, so just deal with what y' got and shut the fuck up, yeah?"

I lean back into the cheap leather and close my eyes. I can already feel how exhausting this journey is going to be.

* * *

"Bro, move your chair forward."

I sigh frustratingly and reach forward to pull the leaver. If it stops Clyde from nagging in my ear every five minutes, then I'm willing to loose a little bit of leg room.

I turn the radio on and flick through the stations.

_"As reported earlier, Mike, parts of Europe have completely shutdown any form of outside communication. We have no idea how good or bad the security is there at the moment, but we've got close contacts that are trying to find out what's actually going on."_

_"So, are you saying that this may have originated from Europe itself?"_

_"We have no idea where it came from, all we know is that civilisation in towns from all around the US, have been destroyed from this fatal virus."_

_"Do they definitely know what this thing is then? And Jess, tell us what they think started this all off."_

_"It's too early to tell, Mike, but they believe it's related to the rabies and potentially the Ebola virus as well. The are still researching about what happened in the beginning of all of this so-"_

I switch through to the CD player and the women who owned this previously, obviously had a thing for Meat Loaf. At least it's better than listening to the news.

"This guy sounds like he's got a pepperoni stuck up his ass." Clyde comments. I would say I agree but I'm not in the mood.

"What are you talking about?! Meat Loaf's a classic." I hear McCormick defend.

"Yeah, at least it's better than the crap you probably listen to."

"Shutup, Ike, I listen to good music!"

Ike chokes out a laugh, "Oh yeah, Like what?"

"Like.." I glanced at Clyde through the rear-view mirror. "Like, Beyonce, Gaga, bit of Shakira." He shrugs, "Stuff like that."

"Say no more." Ike says, sarcastically.

"A bit of Shakira?! Dude, your room is plastered with her." I frown at the reminder that McCormick and Clyde do actually hang out and it pisses me off. I don't like the guy. He walks around school acting like everybody loves him, which is potentially true, take away the fact that he knows I vertically hate him. He can easily get what he wants from people, he thinks he's cute, gets along well with people, and his jokes aren't even funny. I bet you any money he stands in front of his mirror and milks his appearance in. If he could marry himself, then he would.

Yeah, it's safe to say that I do hate him more than Marsh and Broflovski. Not junior, however. I can tolerate Ike. Only because he doesn't come out with bullshit like the rest of them.

"Shutup, you and I both know she has nice legs."

"And breasts."

"Oh come on, everyone knows she hasn't got the hottest set."

"No, but you wouldn't say know, would y'?"

"Alright, now lets compare them to someone like Jennifer Lawrence then."

"No, Clyde, you're talking about actors. That's a completely different category."

"Alright, fairs. But what about-"

I drop my head back and sigh loudly. "Can you talk about something else? This conversation is pissing me off."

"Everything pisses you off, Craig." Clyde mutters.

"Not everything." I snap.

"Right, everything apart from your rat."

I grit my teeth. I hate it when he calls him that.  
"Russian hamster, Clyde. And don't call him a rat."

"Wow, someone's touchy."

"Shut the fuck up, McCormick."

"Shut the fuck up, McCormick." He repeats, mockingly. I glare darkly at him, but he refuses to look at me and pretends to be focusing on the open road.

It's quiet for a couple of seconds, so I try and keep my cool, until Charlie mentions something else about hamsters, referring them as to being a 'girls pet'.

"Yeah, I agree. My sister used to have two, but we couldn't afford to feed them, so they kinda died after a while."

I can't believe what I'm fucking hearing. There is no reason why you can't feed your pet, no matter how big or small it is. If you can't fucking afford one, like the McCormicks, then don't fucking get one. He's doing this to piss me off, so I ignore him.

"What happened with your thing with guinea pigs, Craig?" Tom asks.

"Wanted a change. I think guinea pigs have some sort of effect on me."

"Well. At least with hamsters, they're easier to stick up your ass." I hear Charlie and Clyde snigger at McCormick's comment and I've just about had enough of their voices.

"That's it, pull over."

"What? No, come on, it was only a joke!" He chokes out, in between chuckles.

"I said pull over, I've had enough."

"Dude, we haven't even been in the car ten minutes and you've had enough already?"

"Yep."

"Yeah, can we pull over? I've been holding in a shit since Token's."  
I roll my eyes at Clyde's comment. Broflovski suggests we get off at the next service station, so we can see if we can get any food supplies or something. Not a bad idea, considering I haven't eaten in forty eight hours.

McCormick breaks the car, so that the whole vehicle jolts forward. Whoever gave that shithead a licence in the first place is obviously either really disabled or a hooker. He swerves and doesn't stick to the speed limit. I don't care if it's a fucking apocalypse, they are put there for a fucking reason.

"I'll fill this baby up, while you guys go check out that, surprisingly creepy looking shop."

"Fill her up good. We got ages to go, by the looks of it." Clyde mentions.

"Hey look, I can finally use these gas free tokens. Oh wait!"  
I could barely hear the scraggy blond's sarcasm, because as soon as the darn thing came to a stop, I got out like a shot.

My arm is becoming a pain and I need tablets. I doubt there would be any in here, so my next option is alcohol.

Back at the workshop, I took a black Bowie knife that lay near the crafting desk. I don't particularly like using knives, because I'd prefer to knock the fucking brains out as hard as I can, but the knife looked pretty hardcore looking.

I walk towards the swaying door that leads to the shop. I hear the vehicle doors open and slam shut again, signalling from the others that they have also got out. I take no hesitation in opening the door and wonder straight inside. I hear someone, I think Thomas, call out my name, but I ignore it. It's not exactly dark in here, but it's not bright either. Still being in winter, the sun is only just starting to creep in from the distance.

I stand and scan the room for a second, before walking towards the counter. This gas station looks like some foreign person owns it or something, taking by the overly dose of decoration.

I tap the knife on the counter as if I'm waiting for something. Really, I should check the place out, but I always believe that getting in and out as fast as you can is the best way. So instead of heading outback to check the area, I head straight towards one of the shopping isles.

_Hm. I think today's the day for beef jerky. _I think to myself and I pick up four packets. Surprisingly, some of the isles are actually still stocked with food. This isn't a well known place, but I bet that soon other scavengers will raid this place and take what's left. Exactly what we're doing now.

I look over the shelf and notice Tom come in. He looks around the shop, so I pull my hand up and wave at him and he soon makes his way over to me.

"You've got some balls coming straight in here, don't you? F-FUCK." I watch as he brings his hand up towards his mouth. He then moves to rub his temples. He looks stressed out. I tell him to not worry about his tourettes, because they are fucking cool, but he objects.

"If it wasn't for me, your friend would still be alive."

I frown and turn to him.  
"Don't do that."

"But it's true."

"No." I snap. Thinking that was the end of the conversation, I pick up one of the black backpacks that are stacked behind me and shove some of the supplies that I've already picked up inside.

"Craig, if I didn't blurt out my tourettes, then-"

"I said no." I cut him off. "Pick up whatever you need." I add, before entering the next isle.

The door swings open and this time Clyde comes trotting in. After spotting me, he heads straight to the staff toilet.

I pick up half a batch of protein bars and also chocolate bars, because I know Clyde wont be happy if all I pick up is boring health bars. Whatever.

I drop a large bag of chips, a box of crackers, a box of cornflakes and three bottles of water into the bag. It's getting pretty heavy, so I sling the thing round my shoulder and stroll over to Thomas. He drops whatever he picked up in the bag and zips it up. I was hoping to get a box of cigarettes, but this shop doesn't seem to have any, which annoys me.

"I'm gonna go out and see if any of the others need anything."

"Kay. I'll go see Clyde needs anything." I say to Tom and we go separate ways.

I walk towards the front desk and prop my elbows on the counter. I gaze down towards my forearm and poke through the fabric. I flinch at the feel and I know I have to change the dressings soon. It's incredibly painful (even for me) and I need something now.

I hop myself over the counter and nose around to see if I can find myself anything useful. I crouch down and look through the cubby holes. Shoving my hand through one of the holes, I surprisingly touch upon a box. I grab a hold of it and take it out, placing it on top counter. It has a first aid symbol on it, so I flip it open. I find band aids, a pair of scissors, a small bottle of alcohol, tweezers, a flannel, bandages and some other useless bits and pieces.

I close the box back down and add it to the bag. I don't want to wait about, so I'll do it when we get back on the road.

"You better hurry up, Clyde." I call out, scratching my head as I continue to wait for him.

For some reason, I feet tension grow in and around my personal spot and it was just typical that a cold touch, happened to grab a hold of my shoulder and grip onto me, tightly.

My breath hitches and I immediately turn around as fast as I can. I tighten my fist and take no hesitation in punching the thing in the face. I growl in pain and anger and take a step back, because that really fucking hurt my fist. I shake it twice, before bringing the knife up into the air and piercing it straight into it's left eye. By the look of it, it's male. Looks Chinese and is almost half my height. But dam, does it have a good grip. It still feels like his nails are digging into the front of my shoulder.

As it slumps to the ground, I rub my shoulder to ease out the annoying feeling. By now, Clyde has taken his time to come out of the bathroom, holding a satisfied grin on his face. He almost skips towards me in a cheerful motion, but halts when he notices the corpse from over the counter. I take baby steps back, hitting my back on the counter.

"Shit, bro. You really took that down nicely."

"Mm." I mumble, before snatching the knife out of it's head. Once I snap out of my stare, I jump back over the desk.  
"What the fuck took you so long?"

He claps his hands and then rubs them together, still having plastered a stupidly fat grin.  
"My needs have now been taken care of."

I quirk an eyebrow, not completely sure I heard right.  
"Wait. Did you go in there to take a crap or did you.." I stop when I see the look on his face. He wiggles his eyebrows, which tells me he went in there to jack off.

I pull a face and push past him, "That's fucking disgusting."

"Oh, come on! I haven't gotten any in like four days, I needed cheering up."

"Slut."

"Hey!" He calls out as I walk towards the open fridge that's half full of alcohol. "I only have one girlfriend, thank you very much. And FYI, we've been dating for nearly eight months now."

I browse at the small variety of bottles, crates and cans.  
"Haven't you cheated on her like twice, or something?"

He shrugs. "Well, yeah. But the first time wasn't my fault. I was drunk and it wasn't suppose to happen." He defends, "And the second time, both Bebe and I decided that we were gonna take a one night break and sleep with whoever we wanted. You know, to release the tension."

"Didn't she chose McCormick's brother, Kevin?"

"Uh, yeah."

I actually scoff at that. Fucking typical.

"But that was only because Kenny was out busy with that small, brunette kid that works down in McDonalds." He adds.

"That makes it even worse, you idiot."

I ditch the idea of picking up beer and I grab a bottle of vodka instead. Could be useful if I gain another injury, too.

"Whatever, man. Gonna' pick up a couple of those dirty magazines for Kenny. You want in?"

I huff in annoyance and exit the place.

I see that Broflovski and McCormick are messing around or something. I don't really take much notice of what they're doing, but Tom and Charlie seem to be in deep conversation.

As I approach, the blond notices me and leaves Ike to himself.

"Watch'ya get, Tucker?"

I toss him the bag and he catches it unexpectedly, zipping it open and rummaging through it.

"Sweet." He drones.

I make my way back into the front seat and open the vehicle door.

"Hey, Craig."

"What." I say, slumping into the seat.

"You get any smokes?"

"Had none."

He cusses under his breath and hands me back the bag. I slam the door shut and everyone else begins to get back into the car.

The engine soon starts up again and we continue the journey to wherever the hell we're going.

As soon as we're back on track, I open up the bag and pull out the first aid kit. Opening it, I grab the small bottle of alcohol and bandage kit.

I place my arm on my lap and unlace the previous dressings. They're filthy and covered in blood.

"Dude, that smells like a dried up tampon."

"Shutup, Clyde." I murmur, tossing the rancid fabric out the window.

"He's right, that stinks." I ignore Ike's comment, because I'm trying to concentrate on what I'm doing.

I use my mouth to twist open the lid of the small alcoholic bottle. I clench my fist and pour the whole thing onto the healing wound, without thinking too much about how much it will sting. My reflexes cause my other fist to collide with the side of the door. I can't help but growl out in pain and I can almost feel everyone's eyes on me.

I take a deep breath and bring my hand to my head. Sliding it under my hat, I grab a fistful of hair and squeeze tightly until the easing pain calms down.

"Shit." I can barely hear McCormick over the thumping in my eardrums. "Want me to pull over, man?"

"No." I spit out, not wanting to speak to anyone at this particular moment.

I release the grip on my hair and I feel like scraping the fucking wound away. I can feel it thumping through my skin and I think it may have swollen even more than the last time I checked. I just fucking hope the 'stitches' don't expand, break or snap.

Before I do anything else, I crack open the bottle of vodka and take a swing down. I swallow hard and that seems to at least calm one of my nerves. I sink further into the chair, leaving my wound to open breath for a bit.

Soon after, I man up and roll the fresh bandage around my arm.

* * *

"Pull over, I need to piss." Charlie demands.

"Charming." Ike mutters.

The car comes to another dodgy halt and it stops in the middle of the road. Charlie jumps out, and I notice that Tom takes the chance to shuffle over and stretch his legs.

"Seriously. This is like our fourth stop in the time space of two hours." McCormick states.

I finish nibbling on the last stick of beef jerky and I throw the packet out the window.

"You see, Ike? Now you know the real difference between Chinese chicks and Japanese chicks."

I turn my head to see Clyde 'educating' Ike with one of his magazines he picked up earlier. The poor kid looks terrified at what he's seeing. Well. That's one way to turn someone queer.

"It's not very pretty."

"Maybe so," The blond to the left points out, "But when you've got y' junk shoved in there, none of that matters."

I mentally roll my eyes and sink back into my seat.

"Riiight." Ike drones, sounding unconvinced.

"Doesn't Kyle show you any of this stuff?"

"Of course he fuckin' doesn't, Clyde. God, even thinking about that makes me cringe."

I close my eyes and try to blank out their annoying ass voices, but that doesn't seem to work so fucking well.

"What? I thought that's what all brothers do?"

"It's awkward." McCormick mentions.

"You do it with Kevin though, right? Compare tits and stuff. I swear you told me that he fucks girls in the same room as you too."

"Ew." I hear Charlie say, as he hops back into the car, only catching the last bit of Clyde's accusation.

"Well yeah, but that's different."

"How is that different?!"

"Because, Clyde. Kev and I have this certain quality that no-one else has and it's something that defines who we are."

"And what's that?" Clyde asks.

"We have no shame."

He scoffs, "Good point."

The vehicle starts up again and we continue down the road.

* * *

"Kenny, I think you were suppose to take that turning back there." I hear Ike mention from behind me.

"Don't worry, I know where I'm goin'. Done this hundreds of times."

"Dude, this is the root to Nebraska."

"Oh." The blond realises.

* * *

"How long til we get there? F-SHIT."

"Well, seeing as Kenny took the wrong turning again, it should only be like two hours or something." The small raven says.  
I kick my head back and sigh. This journey is giving me leg ache.

"Well, it may take a little bit longer than that, actually." I hear McCormick state.

"Uh, why?" Charlie asks.

The car starts to reduce in speed and the blond tells us to look ahead.

The road looks partly congested with abandoned vehicles, parked in odd directions. It looks like a multiple traffic collision.

"Oh, great." I mumble.

The car comes to a stop, not too close to the congestion ahead.

"We better check this out." Charlie says, opening the door.

"Why don't we just go around?"

"Well for a start, Tom, there's big fuckin' metal barriers in the way." McCormick replies.

I dismiss the conversation and step out of the vehicle, slinging the backpack over my shoulder.

I begin to walk towards the problem of the situation, when I hear the certain scraggy blond call out for me.  
"Hey, Tucker! Wait for us, asshole!"

I ignore his annoying ass voice and continue walk ahead. It's not long until I reach a brown Mustang, which is crashed into Jeep, that's also crashed into another vehicle and so on. I could have a clear guess at what happened, but that doesn't exactly matter, because getting past this would be virtually impossible.

I stare at the, still early horizon ahead and bite my lip. It's times like these where I wish I was still fucking asleep.

"How the hell are we gonna get through this?!" I let Clyde know I acknowledge his presence by mumbling a 'Mm'.

I turn my head to see Tom and Ike remaining in the vehicle.

"Right, this tells me we're gonna' have to pick another car." Charlie states.

"Preferably one with big enough back seats. My ass cheeks are literally like squished bricks."

"That is absolutely wonderful, Clyde." McCormick muses.

I shuffle sideways through two car bonnets and the others do the same.

"I suggest we look for anything useful. Try look for something good and if you see or hear anything suspicious, let us all know, okay?"

I frown at Charlie's order. "Oh yeah, and who put you in charge?"

"Well, I don't see you having a better fucking idea."

I could probably do so much better on my own, but whatever. I go my separate way and start snooping through the other cars.

It isn't until I finish checking out my fifth car, that I sense something behind me. I snatch the knife out of my jeans and instantly spin round. Instead of being greeted by one of those bastards like I first thought, I'm met with an even bigger problem.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Craig!" He throws his hands up, a disbelief expression on his face. "I'm not a fuckin' zombie, so put the knife down!"

I lower my arm and can't help but wish there was one of them behind me, rather than this annoying asshole.  
Slipping the knife back to where it was, I turn back around and continue what I'm doing.

"Jhee, you're so feisty." He comments, obviously trying to make some sort of conversation with me.

I move onto the next vehicle and briefly expect inside. Once I'm satisfied with the way it looks, I open the dark blue door.

"Like, you're always on edge."

I duck my head inside and rummage through the handbag that's sat on the floor. The only thing I'm really looking for is tablets or some sort of pain revealer.

"Always, unhappy."

Finding nothing, I abandon the vehicle and move onto the next one.

"Always upsetting people."

I still don't find anything, so I try the delivery truck to the left of it.

"Y'know, it's almost like you're disturbed or something."

Taking a couple pulls, I swing open the trunk. I've never seen anything so fucking empty.

"Like, why do you even-"

And that's when I snap. I swing round and shove him, hard enough to send him stumbling backwards.  
"Shut the fuck up." I say, firmly. "I don't fucking care, so either go away and leave me alone, or don't fucking speak bullshit around me."

As soon as I finish speaking, he cracks into a smirk. I seriously want to wipe that look off his face, but instead, I turn towards the truck's door and slam it as hard as I can.

"I hope you get fucking bitten, McCormick."

"Ouch." He deadpans, "Smooth words, I like it."

I flip him off and jump over the bonnet of the next car.

"So.." He drones. "What's the situation between you and Token, then?"

"I don't want to talk about it." I spit.

"I'm just simply asking for an explanation."

"I don't need to explain myself to you." I glare at him and I think he get's the hint to back off.

"Alright," He shrugs, "But y' gonna' have to stop pointing the finger at some point."

"Fuck off." I say, bitterly. "You don't even know what fucking happened, so get your head out of your ass and stop acting like you're some kind of fucking counsellor."

There's a pause and for a moment, I actually think he's going shut the fuck up.

"Wow, you really hate me, don'tchya."

I twist my head and give him my most sarcastic grin. "Yep."

He chuckles to himself, but quickly stops. I'm just about to give him another snarky comment, but when I look at him, he seems to be focused on something in the distance. His expression looks just slightly more pathetic than usual, but he doesn't look amused, unlike any other time I see him. I try to see what he's looking at, but I give up, because there's nothing interesting apart from a load of junked up cars.

"My God.. Is that?"  
He hops up onto the vehicle I was just about to check out and squints his eyes. I watch him carefully as he stumbles off and jumps over the other several cars. I huff and throw my head back in annoyance, before following him at my own pace. If there's a hoard heading our way, I won't be fucking pleased.

As I wedge myself between two collided vehicles, I see the blond standing in front of a red tuck, staring straight into it.

His expression looks devastated and for a moment, I feel a little better. I hate it when the bastard is so cocky and full of sunshine, so seeing him in a different light makes me feel a lot more happier. I like feeding off other people's sadness.

I move towards him as he rushes his way towards the passenger door.

I don't see anyone inside, but the car looks pretty smashed up. The driver's seat's air bag has deflated and the car just looks like an overall wreck.

I think he's reaching inside for something, because I can see him climbing into it. I lean back on the side of a trailer behind me and wait until he retrieves out of the car.

He looks relieved, but I see him firmly holding some sort of clothing in his hand.

"Karen.." He murmurs to himself and I can easily piece things together. I watch as he creepily smells the fabric, (which I think is actually a cardigan) and shoves the faded green cotton into the side of his jeans.

I don't say anything, because I don't particularly care, but he doesn't look at me either. The situation would have been pretty awkward, but luckily Clyde prevented that from happening, by calling out for us.

The scraggy blond looks at me, grins and then makes his way to the direction of Clyde's voice. I frowned as he strolled past me and hopped onto another bonnet.

* * *

"A Range Rover? Sweet. I'll go get the others."

"Kay and don't forget the mags, Kenny." Clyde assures as the blond heads back to get the other two.

"Right. And how are we supposed to get this thing through the surrounding of all these vehicles?" I ask, looking around to see no gateway whatsoever. It's an alright car and everything, but getting it across to the other side is still going to be as much of a nightmare.

"Well actually, now you mention it.. This car here," Charlie points to the vehicle next to it, "Is smashed into that broken road barrier. So all we need to do is push it down that small hill and there you have it. A way out."  
I nod my head. Seems decent.

"Dunno how the rest are gonna' get here, though." Clyde mentions, scratching the back of his head.

"Well they won't have as much as a retarded driver as we have. Unless it's Marsh. But even then, he knows where he's going."

They both amusingly agree and we shortly wait for the other's arrival.

* * *

Charlie's idea went unbelievably perfectly and we're on our way not too long after. I make sure McCormick takes control of the car accurately, because I don't really want to be crashing into the near by trees.

We get lost again, but luckily we don't end up in some infested town. We keep to the outer roads, which I suppose is why we haven't been caught up in anything, apart from the congestion we had earlier.

Everything seems to fucking quiet around here and for once, I don't actually like it. Everything seems so set up, but I can't be bothered to dwell on it too much.

I'm probably going to die soon anyway, so I don't see the point.

If anyone brings up the 'This is the beginning of the end.' bullshit, then that's it. I'll taking the easy way out and blow my brains out.

I fucking hate the faggy inspirational quotes. I really do.

* * *

**Crappy ending there, so apologies for that. I always see Craig as calling people he dislikes by their last name, even when he's thinking it. Charlie doesn't have a last name, because he's a minor,**

**anyways, I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read this so far, even the amount of views I've gotten have meant a lot to me:)**


	8. Grr

I apologise for this, but something bad and frustrating has happened!

-I don't want to go into too much detail, but basically, what has happened, is that my Mother seems to think it's okay to take my stuff away from me, even when I haven't done anything wrong. It's my property, and she says, that, if it's under her roof, that means everything is hers. I was like ?! wtf?

She has decided to take my laptop away from me and has, for some stupid reason, hid it at her work, just so I can't get to it. I'm pissed off with it and I thought I'd wait a couple of days, but there's no way I'm getting it back, unless I give her the password for it. (literally, anger isn't even the word for it. I'm feeling really negative about everything right now)

She wants it, because I think she wants to look at the stuff I have on there. Now, you see, I have files and files of documents on there, which I don't want anyone to come across, due to the fact that, some of it's fanfiction and some of it is some dark shit (no I'm not one of those emos that cry and write about killing themselves). But anyways, it's too complicated to explain why she's being like this. We don't get on at all now, and she can be extremely stubborn. I guess that's where I get it from hahaha

\- YES, I will be continuing this, even if it is for the fair few that want me to continue! (I like doing this for myself aswell, so if no one actually reads this story, it's cool because then I write stuff that I like anD NOT CARE ABOUT ANYONE ELSE HAAHAHHAAHAHAGEGEB)

cough, sorry

anyway, as soon as I get it back, I will update faster than you can say WOAH WHY HASNT SHE UPDATED YET WTF MAN

-Thanks for all the support on this, it's so awesome that people actually take the time to read my stuff, because irl, I'm like PFF SOUTHPARK? WHATS THAT? PFF


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